
Qass V) k ■ i^j ^. 

Book ■ ^^^ 



I 



THE 

POWER OF RELIGION 

ON 

THE MIND, 

in 

RETIREMENT, AFFLICTION, 

AND AT 

THE APPROACH OF DEATH; 

EXEMPLIFIED IN THE TESTIMONIES AND EXPERIENCE OF PERSONS DIS- 
TINGUISHED BY THEIR GREATNESS, LEARNING, OR VIRTUE. 



TIs Immortality,— 'tis that alone. 

Amidst Life's pains, abasements, emptiness, 

The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill Young, 



BY LINDLEY MURRAY, 
Author of an English Grammar, &c., &c. 



PROM THE EIGHTEENTH EDITION, IMPROVED. 



NEW YORK: 

PRINTED BY ORDER OF THE TRUSTEES OP THE RESIDUARY 

ESTATE OF LINDLEY MURRAY. 

Mahlon Day's Press, 374 Pearl-st. 



1838. 



3"R 1703 

M? 



ADVERTISEMENT 

LixDLEY Murray, the author of this work, in his last 
will, bequeathed certain funds to Trustees in America, 
his native country, for several benevolent objects, among 
which is the gratuitous distribution of " Books calculated 
to promote piety and virtue and the truth of Christianity" 
— and of which books he desired that " The Power of 
Religion on the Mind" might form a considerable part. 



Netc Yor^, 1836. 



Drew TheoL StOBU ^ 



.-/f' 



INTRODUCTION. 



To excite serious reflections on the un- 
satisfying and transitory nature of temporal 
enjoyments ; and to promote a lively con- 
cern for the attainment of that felicity, 
which will be complete and permanent ; 
are the objects of the present pubhcation. 

Piety and virtue, abstractedly considered, 
are truly amiable, and appear worthy of 
our earnest pursuit. But when recom- 
mended by the lives, and testimonies of em- 
inent persons, who have known the world, 
and experienced the emptiness of its hon- 
ours, wealth, and pleasures, they derive 
additional importance ; and constrain us to 
acknowledge, that the greatest happiness 
of man is to be found in religion. 



1^ INTRODUCTION. 

Among the most important blessings, 
which the Divine Being has conferred upon 
mankind, m.ay be numbered, the happy 
display of good and pious examples. In 
every age and country, perhaps in almost 
every little district throughout the earth, 
he has placed some of his faithful servants, 
or returning prodigals, to bear witness of 
his poAver and goodness, and to encourage 
others to a life of purity, piety, and benefi- 
cence. 

The following pages exhibit a few of 
those striking examples. In the quiet hour 
of reflection, they may contribute to arrest 
the careless and wandering ; to animate 
the sincere and virtuous ; and to alarm 
those who have rejected the most import- 
ant truths, and who contemn the restraints 
of reUgion and virtue. 

A number of our fellow-creatures, of dif- 
ferent periods, countries, and conditions i^ 
life, standing on the confines of mortaliti' 



INTRODUCTION. v 

and bearing a nniform and undisguised 
testimony to the power and excellence of 
religion, presents a solemn and interesting 
spectacle. With the prospect of immor- 
tahty before them, and no longer influenced 
by those concerns and passions which ob- 
scure the understanding and harden the 
heart, they must be supposed to view their 
objects through a proper medium, and to 
speak the language of truth and soberness. 

May the important testimonies of these 
preachers of righteousness, lead us to just 
and seasonable reflections on the state of 
our own minds ; and produce a reverent 
application to our heavenly Father, for the 
aid of his Holy Spirit, to enlighten and 
strengthen us, and to conduct us safely 
through the paths of life ! May his gra- 
cious protection be afforded at the close of 
our day, when the shadows of the evening 
shall approach, the glittering vanities of 
the world be obscured, and all its friend- 
ships and resources be found unavailing ! 



vi INTRODUCTION. 

Trials and discouragements may, indeed, 
be expected to assail us, in this state of 
being. — On surveying our past lives, we 
must all be conscious, that, in numerous 
instances, we have violated the Divine 
Law, and incurred the penalty due to our 
disobedience. And this view of our con- 
dition often occasions deep regret ; and is 
sometimes apt to overwhelm the drooping 
and diffident mind. 

But whatever may have been our devia- 
tions from the paths of rectitude, we are 
encouraged to ask, and to hope for mercy. 
The goodness of God has freely offered to 
pardon all our sins, and receive us into 
favour, if we sincerely repent, and unfeign- 
edly believe in Jesus Christ the Saviour of 
the world. In the Revelation of his will 
to mankind, the great design, conspicuous 
throughout, is, to manifest his love and 
compassion towards our fallen race, and to 
accomplish our salvation. *' His tender 
mercies are over all his works." '' He 



INTRODUCTION. vu 

taketh pleasure in those who hope in his 
mercy." '^ As a father pitieth his children, 
so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. 
For he knoweth onr frame : lie remember- 
eth that we are dust." The blessed Re- 
deemer '^ came into the world to save sin- 
ners — to seek and to save that which was 
lost." And, to increase our gratitude and 
trust, lie has graciously assured us, that 
*^ there is joy in the presence of the angels 
of God, over one sinner that repenteth." — 
These, and many other passages in the 
'Holy Scriptures, afford an abundant source 
of consolation and encouragement, to the 
truly humble and penitent believer in Christ. 
And when applied to the heart by Divine 
Grace, they produce in us a holy confi- 
dence and joy. 

Though the love and mercies of God are 
great beyond expression, yet, for wise pur- 
poses, his children are not all equally fa- 
voured by him, on the bed of languishing 
and death. But they are all permitted to 



viii INTRODUCTION. 

hope, that, when this awful period ap- 
proaches, He will preserve them from being 
distressed with mournful retrospects on the 
past, or with gloomy apprehensions of the 
future : that redeeming love will calm their 
fears and disquietudes ; sustam them un- 
der every conflict ; and animate them with 
the prospect of being soon admitted into 
the mansions of eternal felicity. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



In the latter editions of this work, the 
author has been sohcitous to make it ac- 
ceptable, not only to persons of mature 
years, but also to many in younger life. 
As the characters which it contains, exhibit 
a great variety of striking and animating 
views of piety and virtue, and strongly re- 
commend the Christian rehgion in particu- 
lar ; he indulges a hope, that instructers of 
youth will deem it a suitable book to be read, 
occasionally, by the higher classes of their 
pupils. It is of great importance to impress 
young minds with favourable sentiments 
of virtue and goodness ; and to convince 
them, by practical evidence, that religion 
affords the best support and enjoyment, in 
this life, and the only sure ground of hap- 
piness in the world to come. 

To render the performance more instruc- 
tive, as well as more interesting, the author 



X ADVERTISEMENT. 

has introduced into it many important 
moral sentiments, and many reflections 
of a religious naturOj as well as a consid- 
erable portion of useful, biographical in- 
formation. The introductory narratives rel- 
ative to the subjects of the work, will, he 
presumes, be found intimately connected 
with its chief design. They gratify curi- 
osity, respecting the general character of 
the persons whose solemn sentiments are 
exhibited ; they confer additional impor- 
tance on the testimonies in favor of re- 
ligion; and they relieve the mind from 
the effect, which a succession of deeply 
serious matter would occasion. 



Some passages in this work, have, in point of orthog- 
raphy or grammatical construction, been rectified ; and a 
few words and phrases have been altered, to adapt them 
better to the subject, or to present usage. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

Joo — Solomon — Cyrus — Confucius — Socrates — Stephen, the Pro* 
tomartyr — The Apostle Paul — Ignatius — Polycarp — The Vene- 
rable Bede — Louis IX. King of France — Pope Eugenius — Car- 
dinal Beaufort — Caesar Borgia page I 

CHAPTER II. 

Cardinal Wolsey — Sir John Mason — Emperor Charles V. — Sir 
Thomas Smith — Bernard Gilpin — Jane, Queen of Navarre- 
Sir Francis Walsingham — Lady Jane Grey — Sir Walter Raleigh 
— Richard Hooker 45 

CHAPTER IIL 

Sir Philip Sidney — Sir Christopher Hatton — Lord Bacon — Sir 
Henry Wotton — Peter Du Moulin — Doctor Donne — Philip III. 
King of Spain — Catharine Bretterg — Oxensteim, Chancellor of 
Sweden — Hugo Grotius — John Selden — Cardinal Richelieu- 
Lord Harrington — Salmasius 87 

CHAPTER IV. 

Cardinal Mazarine — Bulstrode Wliitelocke — Anna Maria Schur- 
man — Sir Matthew Hale — Du Renti — Princess Elizabeth- 
William Mompesson — Admiral Penn 122 



Xll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 

Pascal — Robert Boyle — ^John Locke — John Jancway — Earl of 
Marlborough 151 

CHAPTER VI. 

Lady Rachel Russel — Jane Ratcliffe — Sir Isaac Newton — Bishop 
Burnet — John, Earl of Rochester 174 

CHAPTER Vn. 

Qneen Mary — Herman Boerhaave— Joseph Addison — Ann Bay- 
nard — ^Elizabeth Rowe — Doctor Watts 205 

CHAPTER VHL 

Colonel Gardiner — Lady Elizabeth Hastings — H. Housman— 
Doctor Doddridge 232 

CHAPTER IX. 

Louis, Duke of Orleans — Soame Jen)ms — Lord Lyttelton — Jonas 
Hanway — Anthony Benezet — James Hervey — ^Altamont, or the 
Death of the Libertine 259 

CHAPTER X. 

Baron Kaller — John Howard — Newton's Letters — ^Margaret M. 
Althens — Zimmerman — James Hay Beattie — Elizabeth Smith- • 

Elizabeth Carter — Sir William Jones 299 

Conclusion • 369 

Alphabetical Index 373 



THE 

POWER OF RELIGION, &c 
CHAPTER I. 

Job S olomon Cyras C onfucius S ocrates 

Stephen the protomartyr The Apostle Paul 

-Ignatius Poly carp Louis IX. King of 

France Pope Eugenius Cardinal Beaufori 

Caesar Borgia. 



SECTION I. 
THE PATRIARCH JOB. 

This venerable patriarch was so eminent an 
instance of the power of religion on the mind, 
under the most trying afflictions, that a short 
account of him may properly introduce these 
memoirs. 

In the first part of his days, this distinguished 

• person was *' the greatest of all the men of the 

East." His possessions were large : his family 

was numerous and flourishing ; his own character 

was fair and blam.eless : yet this person it pleased 

God to visit with extraordinary reverses of for 

1 



2 JOB. 

tune. He was robbed of his whole substance. 
His sons and daughters all perished ; and he him- 
self, fallen from his high estate, childless and re- 
duced to poverty, was smitten with sore disease 
His friends came about him, seemingly with the 
purpose of administering comfort ; but, from a 
harsh and ill-founded construction of the intention 
of Providence, in his disasters, they only added 
to his sorrows, by unjust upbraiding. 

In distress so poignant, what was the temper 
of this good man ? Fully persuaded that all bless- 
ings come from God, who has a right to with- 
hold or distribute them, as he sees best, he pious- 
ly exclaims : " The Lord gave, and the Lord 
hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the 
Lord !'' 

To his other calamities, this domestic affliction 
was added, that his wife, who ought to have 
soothed and alleviated his sorrows, provoked his 
indignation, by an impious speech. What firm- 
ness and resignation are marked in his answer to 
her ! " Thou speakest as one of ll;e foolish wo- 
men speaketh. What ! shall we receive good at 
the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil ?" 
Though he forcibly felt the deplorable condition 
to which he was reduced, and most pathetically 
described and bewailed it, yet no doubt of Divine 
goodness, no murmur against Providence, was 



JOB. -3 

suffered to rise in his mind. " In all this 
Job sinned not with his lips, nor charged God 
foolishly." 

At length, the goodness of that God whom he 
served, and who had secretly supported him 
under all his sufferings, broke forth upon him 
with increased energy; and, like a cheering sun 
dispersing the surrounding gloom, again glad- 
dened his heart with returning peace and pros- 
perity. His riches were restored to him two-fold. 
The loss of his former children was repaired by a 
new offspring. His name became again renowned 
in the East ; " and the latter end of Job was more 
blessed than the beginning." 



SECTION II. 
SOLOMON. 

SoLCMON is one of the most interesting and 
extraordinary characters mentioned in the sacred 
Scriptures. The advice which this prince received 
from his father David, a short time before his de- 
cease, is very remarkable ; and doabtless made a 
deep impression on his mind : '*' Thou, Solomon, 
my son, know thou the God of thy father ; and 
serve him with a perfect heart, and with a willing 
mind : for the Lord searcheth all hearts. If thou 
seek him he will be found of thee : but if thou 
forsake him, he will cast thee off for ever." 

This king having made a great and solemn 
offering to God, soon after his accession to the 
throne, the Lord was well pleased with his piety 
and zeal; and desired him to ''ask what he 
should give him." Humbled under the sense of 
the goodness of God to him, and of his incapa- 
city to govern so numerous a people, he de- 
clared that " he was but a httle child :" and, 
instead of riches and honour, and length of 
days, he desired that God would bestow upon 11 

him wisdom and knowledge, that he might pru- 



SOLOMON. 5 

dently and happily rule the nation over wliich 
he had placed him. This choice was so much 
approved by the Almighty, that he gave him a 
wise and understanding heart, and added riches 
and honour to the gift. 

Solomon was directed by God to build him a 
temple at Jerusalem : and this order he faithfully 
executed. The prayer which he made at ihe 
dedication of this grand edifice, breathes the most 
devout and hum^ble disposition, and the naost 
ardent desire for the real happiness of his people. 
One can scarcely ever peruse it, without feeling a 
degree of the same pious ardour, which pervaded 
and animated the breast of the royal supplicant, 
on that solemn occasion. At this moment, he 
shone in his highest lustre : nor can we conceive 
any thing upon earth more dignified and majestic, 
than his deportment on the dedication of this 
sacred structmre. We are compelled to revere 
the chciracter of the monarch, who with such 
uncommon zeal, stood before his nobles, his 
princes, and his people, as a preacher of right- 
eousness, and as a priest of the most high God. 

This illustrious prince, however, at one period 
of his life, so far mistook the source of true hap- 
piness, as to flatter himself with the hope of great 
enjoyments from the world. He sought for and ob- 
tained all the means of pleasure ; but found liim- 
1* 



SOLOMON. 



self, in the end, greatly disappointed. The result 
of this search and experiment, he gives us, in these 
memorable hnes; " I said to my heart, I wiU prove 
thee with mirth ; therefore enjoy pleasure : and, 
behold ! this also is vanity. I made great works, 
built houses, planted vineyards, made gardens 
and orchards, and planted trees in them of all 
kinds of fruits. 1 procured ser^-ants and maidens ; 
I gathered silver and gold, and the peculiar 
treasiu-e of kings. I obtained men and women 
Binders, and the deliglus of the sons of men, as 
musical instruments, and those of all sorts. So I 
was great, and increased more than aH that were 
before me in Jerusalem : and whatever my eyes 
desired, I kept not from them ; I withheld not my 
heart from any joy. Then I looked on the works 
which my hands had wrought; and, behold! aU 
was vamty and vexation of spirit." 

After this full persuasion, that real happiness 
was not to be found in sensual pleasure or worldly 
honoin-s, he concludes with solemnly recommend- 
ing piety and virtue, as the great objects for which 
we were brought into being; and which wiU not 
only yield the best enjoyments of life, but will sup- 
port trs in that day, when we must make up our 
fina account. « Fear God, and keep his command- 
ments This IS the whole duty of man. For God 
wiU bmg every work into judgment, whether it 
be good or whether it be evil." 



SOLOMON. 7 

^ When we reflect," says Dr. Blair, " on the 
character of him who delivered these sentiments, 
we cannot but admit that they deserve a serious 
and attentive examination. For they are not the 
declarations of a pedant, who, from an obscure 
retirement, declaims against pleasures which he 
never knew. They are not the invectives of a 
discontented man, who takes revenge upon the 
world by satirizing those enjoyments which he 
sought in vain to obtain. They are the conclu- 
sions of a great and prosperous prince, who had 
once given full scope to his desires ; who was 
thoroughly acquainted with hfe in its most flatter- 
ing scenes : and who now, reviewing all that he 
had enjoyed, delivers to us the result of long ex- 
perience and tried wisdom." 



SECTION III. 

CYRUS. 

Cyrus may justly be considered as the most 
accomplished prince that we read of in profane 
history. He was possessed of wisdom, moderation, 
magnanimity ; a genius for forming, and prudence 
for executing, the greatest designs. Of this ex- 
traordinary person, the Almighty said : " He is 
my shepherd, and shall perform all my pleasure :" 
and he was accordingly made use of as an eminent 
instrument to punish wicked nations, and to pro- 
mote the Divine will respecting the children of 
Israel. 

When this great prince perceived the approach 
of death, he ordered his children, and the chief 
officers of state, to be assembled around him. On 
this occasion, the influence of religion on his heart 
was very conspicuous. He solemnly thanked the 
Supreme Being for all the favours he had con- 
ferred upon him, through the course of his life ; 
implored the same care and protection for his 
children, his country, and his friends ; and de- 
clared his elder son, Cambyses, his successor, 
leaving the other several very considerable gov- 



CYRUS 9 

ernments. He gave excellent instructions to both 
of them. He observed, that the chief strength 
and support of the throne, were not vast extent of 
country, number of forces, nor immense riches, 
but just veneration towards God, good understand- 
ing betv^een brethren, and the acquisition of true 
and faithful friends. '• I conjure you, therefore," 
said he, "my dear children, in the name of 
Heaven, to respect and love one another, if you 
retain any desire to please me for the future. 
For I do not think you will judge me to have no 
existence, because you will not see me after nby 
death. You have never yet seen my soul : you 
must, however, have known by its actions, that 
it really existed. Can you believe, that honours 
would still be paid to persons, whose bodies are 
now but ashes, if their souls had no longer any 
being or power ? No, no, my sons ; I could never 
believe that the soul lived only whilst in a mortal 
body, and died when separated from it. But if I 
mistake, and nothing of me shall remain after 
death, fear the Deity, who never dies, who sees 
all things, and whose power is infinite. Fear 
him ; and let that fear prevent you from ever 
doing, or deliberating to do, any thing contrary 
to religion and virtue. Next to him, fear man- 
kind, and the ages to come. You cannot be 
buried in obscurity : you are exposed upon a 
grand theatre to the view of the world. If your 
actions are upright and benevolent, be assured 



10 CYRUS. 

they \Yill augment your power and glory. With 
regard to my body, my sons, when life has for- 
saken it, enclose it neither in gold nor silver, nor 
in any other matter whatever. Restore it imme- 
diately to the earth." Perceiving himself to be at 
the point of death, he concluded with these words : 
^^ Adieu, dear children ! May youj: lives be 
happy ! Carry my last remembrance to your 
mother. And you, my faithful friends, those 
absent as well as those that are present, receive 
this last farewell ! May you live in peace !" After 
he had said this, he covered his face and died, 
greatly lamented by the nations over whom he 
had reigned. 



SECTION IV. 
CONFUCIUS. 

Confucius, the celebrated Chinese philosopher, 
was bom in the kingdom of Lou, 551 j'ears before 
the Christian era. When a child, he had a grave 
and serious deportment, which gained him respect, 
and plainly foretold what he would one day be. 
But he was most distinguished by his unexampled 
and exalted piety. He honoured his relations; 
he endeavoured in all things to imitate his grand- 
father, who was then alive in China, and a very 
pious man : and it was observable that he never 
eat any thing, but he prostrated himself upon the 
ground, and offered it first to the Supreme Lord 
of heaven. One day, while he was a child, he 
heard his grandfather fetch a deep sigh; and 
going up to him with much reverence, " May 
I presume," said he, " without losing the respect 
£ owe you, to inquire into the occasion of your 
grief? Perhaps you fear that your posterity will 
degenerate from your virtue, and dishonour yoa 
by their vices." '' What put this thought into 
your head," said the old man to him ; " and wher^ 
have you learned to speak after this manner?" 
"From yourself," replied Confucius: *' I attend 



12 CONFUCIUS. 

diligently to you every time you speak ; and I 
have often heard you say, that a son, who does 
not by his virtues support the glory of his ances- 
tors, does not deserve to bear their name." 

At twenty- three years of age, when he had 
gamed a considerable knowledge of antiquity, and 
acquainted himself with the laws and customs of 
his country, he projected a scheme for a general 
reformation of manners. "Wisely persuaded that 
the people could not be happy, so long as avarice, 
ambition, voluptuousness, and false policy, reigned 
amongst them, he thought it incumbent upon 
him to recommend a severe morality; and ac- 
cordingly, he began to enforce temperance, jus- 
tice, and other virtues ; to inspire a contempt 
of riches, parade, and splendour ; and to excite 
such an elevation of mind as w^ould render men 
incapable of dissimulation and insincerity. In 
short, he used all the means he could think of, to 
redeem his countrymen from a life of pleasure to 
a life of reason. He was every where known, 
and as universally beloved : his extensive learning 
and great v/isdom, soon made him known ; his 
integrity and the splendour of his virtues, made 
him beloved. Kings were governed by his coun- 
sels, and the people reverenced him as a saint 
The good effects of his example and admonitions 
were, however, but temporary. He lived m 
Umes when rebelUon, wars, and tumults, raged 



CONFUCIUS. 13 

throughout the empire. Men had Utile leisure, 
and less inclination, to listen to his philosophy ; 
for, as we have observed, they were ambitious, 
avaricious, and voluptuous. Hence he often met 
with ill-treatment and reproachful language ; and 
it is said that conspiracies were formed against 
his life : to which may be added, that his neglect 
of his own pecuniary interest had reduced him 
to extreme poverty. 

Some philosophers among his contemporaries 
were so affected with this sad state of things, 
that they retired into the mountains and de- 
serts, thinking that happiness could nowhere be 
found, but in seclusion from society. In vain 
they endeavoured to persuade Confucius to fol- 
low their example : — " I am a man," said he, 
" and cannot separate myself from the society of 
men, and consort with beasts. Bad as the times 
are, I shall do all I can to recall men to virtue ; 
for in virtue are all things. If mankind would 
but embrace it, and submit themselves to its dis- 
cipline and laws, they would not want me or any 
body eke to instruct them. It is the duty of a 
teacher first to perfect himself, and then to per- 
fect others. Human nature came to us from 
Heaven pure and without defect; but in process 
of time, ignorance, the passions, and evil examples, 
corrupted it. Reformation consists in restoring 
it to its primitive bca^^y: to be perfect, wc must 



14 CONFUCIUS. 

re-ascend to the point from which we have fallen. 
Let us obey Heaven. Let our reason, and not 
our senses, be the rule of our conduct : for reason 
will teach us to think wisely, to speak prudently, 
and to behave ourselves worthily upon all occa- 
sionsJ' 

Confucius did not cease to travel about, and do 
all the good in his power. He gained many dis- 
ciples, who became strongly attached both to his 
person and his doctrine. These he sent into dif- 
ferent parts of the empire, to promote reforma- 
tion of manners among the people. All his in 
structions were enforced by his own example. — 
He was remarkable for his gravity and sobriety, 
his rigorous abstinence, his contempt of riches, 
and what are commonly called the goods of this 
life; for his continual attention and watchfulness 
over bis actions ; and, above all, for his unaffected 
modesty and humility. He is said to have lived 
three years in retirement ; and to have spent the 
latter part of his life in sorrow. A few days be- 
fore his last illness, he told his disciples, with 
tears in his eyes, that he was overcome with grief 
at the sight of the disorders which prevailed in the 
empire : " The mountain," said he, " is fallen ; 
the high machine is demolished, and the sages are 
all fled." His meaning was, that the edifice of 
perfection, which he had endeavoured to raise, 
was entirely overthrown. He began to languish 



CONFUCIUS. 15 

from that time ; and a few days before his death 
expressed himself thus : " The kings reject my 
maxims ; and since I am no longer useful on the 
earth, I ought not to regret leaving it." After 
these words he fell into a lethargy ; and, at the 
end of seven days, expired in the arms of his dis- 
ciples, in the seventy-third year of his age. Upon 
the first hearing of his death, the prince, who then 
reigned in the kingdom of Lou, could not refrain 
from tears ; " God is not satisfied with me," cried 
he, " since he has taken away Confucius." 

Wise and good men are indeed precious gifts, 
with which heaven blesses the earth ; and their 
worth is seldom justly appreciated till after their 
decease. Confucius was lamented by the whole 
empire. He was honoured as a saint ; and so 
high a veneration was entertained for his memory, 
that it will scarcely ever be efiaced in those parts 
of the world. 



SECTION V. 
SOCRATES. 

Socrates, the greatest of the ancient heathen 
philosophers, was born about 467 years before the 
Christian era. His sentiments and conduct were, 
in many respects, very excellent, and command 
our admiration. He was blessed with extraor- 
dinary talents, which were improved by all the 
learning that the age in which he lived could 
aflFord : and he appeared at Athens under the 
respectable character of a good citizen, a true phi 
losopher, and a wise instructor. 

Convinced that philosophy is valuable, not as it 
furnishes curious questions for the schools, but as 
it provides men with a law of life, Socrates cen- 
sured his predecessors for spending all their time 
in abstruse researches into nature, and taking no 
pains to render themselves useful to mankind. 
His favourite maxim was, "Whatever is above 
us, does not concern us.^' His great object in all 
his conferences and discourses, was, to lead men 
into an acquaintance with themselves; to con- 
vince them of their errors ; to inspire them with 
the love of virtue j and to furnish them with use- 



SOCRATES. ^ 17 

lul moral instructions. In these benevolent la- 
bours he was indefatigable. He communicated 
his instructions not only when he was in the 
chair, and at set hours of discourse, but even in 
his amusements ; when he was at his meals ; in 
the camp or market ; and, finally, when he was in 
prison : thus making every place a school of virtue. 

Through his whole life, this good man dis- 
covered a mind superior to the attractions of 
wealth and power. Contrary to the general 
practice of the preceptors of his time, he in 
structed his pupils, without receiving from them 
any gratuity. He frequently refused rich pre 
sents. The chief men of Athens were his stewards : 
they sent him provisions, as they apprehended 
he wanted them. He took, what his present ne- 
cessities required, and returned the rest. Ob- 
serving at a particular time, the numerous ar- 
ticles of luxury which were exposed to sale at 
Athens, he exclaimed : ^' How many things are 
here which I do not want !" 

His intrepid virtue, and the severity with 
which he reproved vice, produced the hatred of 
men whose principles and conduct were the re- 
verse of his own. He was maliciously accused of 
corrupting the youth, and of despising religion ; 
and was, with singular injustice, condemned to 
2* 



18 SOCRATES, 

die. Before the trial, his chief accuser sent him 
a private message, assuring him that if he would 
desist from censuring his conduct, the accusation 
should be ^vithdrawn. But Socrates refused to 
comply with so degrading a condition ; and, with 
hi* usual integrity, replied : " Whilst I live I 
will never disguise the truth, nor speak otherwise 
than my duty requires." 

After the sentence was passed, he was sent to 
prison, where he lay in fetters thirty days. In 
this long inter^^al, with the prospect of death 
continually before him, he did not cease to enjoy 
that profound tranquillity of mind, which his 
friends had always admired in him. He enter- 
tained them with the same cheerful temper, which 
he had ever manifested : and Crito observes, that 
the evening before his death, he slept as peace- 
fully as at any other time. On the day assigned 
for him to die, his friends repaired early to the 
prison. They foimd him, with his chains off, 
sitting by his wife, who held one of his children 
in her anns. As soon as she perceived them^ 
she made the prison resound with her cries. 
Socrates, that the tranquillity of his last moments 
might not be disturbed by unavailing lamenta- 
tions, requested that she might be conducted 
home. With the most frantic expressions of grief 
she left the prison. 



SOCRATES. 19 

An interesting conversation then passed be- 
tween Socrates and his friends, which chiefly 
turned upon the immortahty of the soul. In the 
course of this conversation, he expressed his dis- 
approbation of the practice of suicide ; and assured 
his friends that his chief support, in his present 
situation, was an expectation, though not un- 
mixed with doubt, of a happy existence after 
death. ^^ It would be inexcusable in me," said he, 
*' to despise death, if I were not persuaded that 
it will conduct me into the presence of the gods, 
w^ho are the most righteous governors, and into 
the society of just and good men : but I derive 
confidence from the hope, that something of man 
remains after death: and that the condition of 
good men will then be much better than that of 
the bad." 

Towards the close of the day, he retired into 
an adjoining apartment to bathe ; his friends in 
the mean time, expressing to one another their 
grief at the prospect of losing so excellent a 
father, and being left to pass the rest of their 
days, in the solitary state of orphans. After a 
short interval, during which he gave some ne- 
cessary instructions to his domestics, and took 
his last leave of his children, the attendant of the 
prison informed him, that the time for drinking 
the poison w^as come. The executioner, though 



20 SOCRATES. 

accustomed to such scenes, shed tears as he pre- 
sented the fatal cup. Socrates received it without 
change of countenance, or the least degree of 
perturbation. Then offering up a prayer, that he 
might have a prosperous passage into the in- 
visible world, with perfect composure he swal- 
lowed the poisonous draught. His friends around 
him burst into tears. Socrates alone remained 
unmoved. He upbraided their pusillanimity, and 
entreated them to exercise a manly constancy, 
worthy of the friends of virtue. "What are 
you doing ?" said he to them, " I wonder at 
you. O ! what has become of your virtue ? was it 
not for fear of their falling into these weaknesses 
that I sent away the women ? I have always heard 
that we ought to die peaceably, and blessing the 
gods. Be at ease, I beg of you, and show more 
firmness and resolution." H^ continued walking 
till the chilling operation of the hemlock obliged 
him to lie down upon his bed. After remaining 
a short time in this situation, he covered himself 
with his cloak, and expired. Such was the fate 
of the virtuous Socrates ! " A story," says Cicero, 
" which I never read without tears." 

It was not till some time after the death of 
this great man, that the people of Athens per- 
ceived their injustice, and began to repent of 
it Their hatred being satisfied ; their prejudices 



SOCRATES. 21 

removed ; and time having given them an op- 
portunity for reflection ; the notorious iniquity 
of the sentence appeared in all its horrors. No- 
thing was heard, throughout the city, but dis- 
courses in favor of Socrates, The Academy, 
the Lyceum, private houses, public walks, and 
market-places, seemed still to re-echo the sound of 
his loved voice. " Here," said they, '' he formed 
our youth, and taught our children to love their 
country, and to honour their parents. In this 
place, he gave us his admirable lessons, and 
sometimes made us seasonable reproaches, to 
engage us more warmly in the pursuit of virtue^ 
Alas ! how have we rewarded him for those im- 
portant services !" Athens was in universal mourn- 
ing and consternation. The schools were shut up, 
'and all exercises suspended. The accusers were 
punished for the innocent blood they had caused 
to be shed ; and the regard and gratitude of the 
Athenians towards this excellent man rose to the 
highest degree of veneration* 



22 $OCRATES. 

Ma.ny Other instances might have been given, 
of heathens, who, by their actions and discourses, 
appear to have been under the influence of re 
ligion ; but, in paganism, we find Hght so mixed 
with darkness, rehgion and truth so blended with 
superstition and error, that tte minds of Christians 
will be less edified by exanaples of this land, than 
by those which exhibit piety and virtue, enlight^ 
ened by the rays of the gospel, and animated by 
the assurance it gives of a happy immortality: 
we shall therefore confine ourselves, in the suc- 
ceeding pages of this work, to instances of the 
power of religion on the minds of persons wha 
have lived under the Christian dispensation. 

It is, however, to the serious and benevolent 
mind, a source of thankfulness, to believe that 
the Divine Goodness extends itself towards the 
upright in heart of every age and every country. 
All mankind are, indeed the children of one be- 
neficent Parent, who will judge them by the de- 
gree of hght, and the law, which it has pleased 
him to afford them. But whilst we indulge this 
charitable sentiment, it behooves us who, as 
Christians, are distinguished by pre-eminent ad- 
vantages, to improve them faithfully, to the honour 
of the Great Giver, the good of mankind, and Ae 
edification of our own souls. 



SECTION VI. 

STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR. 

This excellent man lived in the Apostolic age ; 
and was remarkable for his faith, his v^isdom, and 
an eminent portion of the Holy Spirit, which it 
had pleased God to bestow upon him. Devoted 
to the service of his Divine Master, and anxious to 
promote the eternal happiness of men, he laboured 
fervently to extend the belief, and the blessings, of 
the Gospel. These endeavours were rendered 
successful, by the support of his Lord ; who ena- 
bled him to confirm his Divine mission, by the 
miracles which he performed among the people. 

But the pious exertions of this upright and be- 
nevolent man, for the happiness of others, could 
not secure him from the malice and opposition of 
his enemies, who were influenced by a far different 
spirit. When these adversaries of true religion, 
found themselves unable to resist " the wisdom 
and the spirit by w^hich Stephen spake," they 
suborned witnesses to declare falsehoods, and to 
charge him with blasphemy, before the council. 
On this occasion, his innocence, and the sustain- 
ing power of liis Lord and Master, were eminently 



24 STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR, 

conspicuous : for whilst " they who sat in council 
looked steadfastly pn hiixij they saw his face as it 
bad been the face of an angel." |i 

In a speech of great simplicity and energy, and 
which marked the undaunted firmness of his mindj 
he defended the sacred cause which he had espous 
ed. He gave a concise, but corxiprehensive history 
of the dealings of God with the Jewish nation ; and [ 

set forth their repeated provocations, disobedience, 
and ingratitude, and the unmerited goodness and 
mercy of their Divine Lawgiver ; and concluded 
with observing, that they themselves had been the 
betrayers and murderers of the Just One, the 
Lord and Saviour of the world. Thi§ faithful re- 
monstrance, instead of affecting them with humili- 
ation and sorrow, for their heinous transgression, 
excited the bitterest resentment against this firm 
and zealous Christian. " They were cut to the 
heart, and gnashed on him with their teeth.'* At 
this moment, Stephen was animated by an extra* ; 
ordinary interposition of Divine power. " Full of 
the Holy Spirit, he looked up steadfastly into 
heaven, and 8aw the glory of God, and Jesus 
standing on the right hand of God." This miracu- 
lous vision he communicated to the council and 
people ; which so enraged these unhappy creatures, 
" that they stopped their ears, and ran upon him 
with one accord, and cast him out of the city, and 
stoned him " Whilst they were employed in this 



STEPHEN THE PROTOMARTYR. 2o 

murderous deed, the faith of Stephen remained 
unshaken. " He called upon God, and said, ^ Lord 
Jesus receive my spirit !' " Far from feeling the 
least resentment towards these violent and wicked 
men, " he kneeled down, and cried with a loud 
voice, * Lord, lay not this sin to their charge !' " — 
What a glorious triumph was this of religion, 
the pure and benign religion of Christ, over the 
passions of human nature, and the malevolence of 
evil spirits ! 



SECTION VII. 
THE APOSTLE PAUL. 

Tins eminent apostle is supposed to have been 
born about two years before our Saviour. He was 
a native of Tarsus, in Cilicia, and a Pharisee by 
profession. The strong powers of mind which he 
possessed, were greatly improved by education. 
His parents sent him early to Jerusalem, where he 
studied the law, at the feet of Gamaliel, a doctor 
of high reputation ; under whose directions he 
made a great progress in his studies ; and after- 
wards became very zealous for a strict observance 
of the law of Moses. But his zeal carried him to 
great excess. He persecuted the church of 
Christ in the most violent manner. He entered 
into the houses of the Christians, and drew out by 
force both men and women, loaded them with 
chains, and sent them to prison. He searched for 
them even in the Synagogues ; w^here he caused 
them to be beaten with rods, and compelled them 
to blaspheme the name of Jesus Christ. 

In the midst of this mad and destructive career, 
he was arrested by a miraculous appearance of that 



1 



THE APOSTLE PAUL. J^ 

gracious Being, whose religion he wished to extir- 
pate; and who addressed him in these alarming 
expressions : " I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom 
thou persecutest." Struck to the ground, and 
humbled under a deep sense of the enormity of 
his conduct, he cried out, " Lord, what wouldst 
thou have me to do ?" 

From this period, he became sincerely and 
earnestly devoted to the service of his Divine 
Redeemer ; who, in his unsearchable wisdom and 
mercy, made him an eminent instrument in estab- 
lishing his church among the Gentiles. The 
same zealous and ardent temper, by which he had 
been distinguished when attached to Judaism, be- 
ing now injfluenced and directed by Divine grace, 
was entirely converted to the holy purpose of pro- 
pagating the gospel of peace and salvation. 

In this most benevolent work, he was indefati- 
gable. No labour or fatigue discouraged him : 
no enemies or danger appalled him. Having been 
assured of the mercy and forgiveness of his Lord, 
and animated by the sense of his love, and of the 
unmerited honour of being employed in his service, 
Paul devoted all his powers, and made every sac- 
rifice, to promote the blessed cause in which he 
had engaged. He thought that he could never 
sufficiently serve a Master, who had been so gra- 
cious and bountiful to him. 



28 THE APOSTLE PAUL. 

The enmity of his open and secret opposers, 
the various distresses and afflictions he encounter- 
ed, served only to increase the ardour of his pious 
pursuits. The strong faith v^ith which he was 
endued, raised him above all temporal considera- 
tions. " We are (said he) troubled on every side, 
yet not distressed ; we are perplexed, but not in 
despair; persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast down, 
but not destroyed." — " I am filled with comfort ; 
I am exceedingly joyful in all our tribulation." 
Supported by Divine grace and future prospects, 
he seems to have considered all the labours and 
sorrows of this life, but as a drop of the ocean, as 
a grain of sand on the seashore, compared with 
that exalted state of happiness which awaited him, 
and which would last for ever. " Our light af- 
fliction, (says he,) which is but for a moment, 
worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal 
weight of glory." 

The life and writings of this distinguished 
apostle, exhibit numerous instances of his humility, 
self-denial, patience, resignation, and fortitude ; of 
his love to God, and love to man. His epistles 
contain a clear display of the doctrines of Chris- 
tianity, and an ample detail of its precepts. They 
have been read, with comfort and edification, by 
the truly pious, in every age of the Christian 
church. 



TILE APOSTLE PAUL 29 

The nature and design of this work, will not 
allow us to recite many of the interesting occur- 
rences in the life of this Apostle. We have, 
however, in addition to those already mentioned, 
selected the following, as striking proofs of the 
power of religion on his mind. 

After having long acted as the Apostle of the 
Gentiles, his mission called him to go to Jerusalem, 
where he knew that he was to encounter the 
utmost violence of his enemies. Just before he 
set sail, he called together the elders of his 
favorite church at Ephesus ; and, in a pathetic 
speech, which does great honour to his character, 
gave them his last farewell. Deeply affected by 
their knowledge of the certain dangers to which 
he was exposing himself, the whole assembly was 
filled with distress, and melted into tears. The 
circumstances were such as might have conveyed 
dejection, even into a resolute mind; and would 
have totally overwhelmed the feeble. " They all 
wept sore, and fell on Paul's neck, and kissed 
him ; sorrowing most of all for the words which 
he spoke, that they should see his face no more." — 
What were then the sentiments, what was the 
reply of this faithful servant of God ? His firm 
and undaunted mind expressed itself in these 
words: "Behold, I go bound in the spirit, to 
Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall be- 
fall me there ; save that the Holy Spirit witnesseth 
3* 



90t THE APOSTLE PAUL. 

ill every city, saying, that bonds and afflictions 
abide me. But none of these things move me ; 
neither count I my hfe dear to myself, so that I 
might finish my course with joy, and the ministry 
which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify 
the Gospel of the grace of God." — Here we per- 
ceive the language, and the spirit, of a truly great 
and religious man. Such a man knows not what 
it is to shrink from danger, when conscience 
points out his path. In that path he will resolutely 
walk, let the consequences be what they may. 

This was the magnanimous behaviour of the 
Apostle, when he had persecution and distress full 
in view. Let us attend to his sentiments, when 
the time of his last sufferings approached, and 
observe the majesty, and the ease, with which he 
looked on death. " I am now ready to be oflfered, 
and the time of my departure is at hand. I have 
fought the good fight. I have finished my course. 
I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid 
up for me a crown of righteousness." — How many 
years of life does such a dying moment over- 
balance ? Who would not choose, in this manner, 
to go off the stage, with such a song of triumph 
in his mouth, rather than prolong his existence, 
amidst cares and anxieties, and even amidst the 
honours and enjoyments of the world ? 



SECTION VIIT 



IGNATIUS. 



Ignatius, one of the ancient fathers of the 
church, was born in Syria, and brought up under 
the care of the Apostle John. About the year 
67, he became bishop of Antioch. In this im- 
portant station, he continued above forty years, 
both an honour and a safeguard to the Christian 
reHgion; undaunted in the midst of very tem- 
pestuous times^ and unmoved vsdth the prospect 
of suffering a cruel death- He taught men to 
think little of the present life ; to value and love 
the good things to come ; and never to be deterred 
from a course of piety and virtue, by the fear of 
any temporal evils whatever; to oppose only 
meekness to anger, humility to boasting, and 
prayers to curses and reproaches. 

This excellent man was selected by the em- 
peror Trajan, as a subject whose sufTerinps /night 
be proper to inspire terror and discouragcn.cnt m 
the hearts of the Christians at RomK He was 
condemned to die for his faith m Christ ; and 
ordered to be thrown amongst wild beasts, to be 
devoured by them. This cruel sentence, far from 
weakening his attachment to the great cause he 



32 IGNATIUS. 

had espoused, excited thankfulness of heart, that 
he had been counted worthy to suffer for the sake 
of rehgion. " I thank thee, O Lord," said he, 
" that thou hast condescended thus to honour me 
with thy love ; and hast thought me worthy, with 
thy apostle Paul, to be bound in chains." 

On his passage to Rome, he wrote a letter to his 
fellow Christians there, to prepare them to ac 
quiesce in his sufferings, and to assist him with 
their prayers. "Pray for me," said he, "that 
God would give me both inward and outward 
strength, that I may not only say, but do well , 
that I may not only be called a Christian, but be 
found one." Animated by the cheering prospect 
of the reward of his suflferings, he said : " Now, 
indeed, I begin to be a disciple ; I weigh neither 
visible nor invisible things, in comparison of an 
interest in Jesus Christ." — ^With the utmost Chris- 
tian fortitude, he met the wild beasts assigned for 
his destruction, and triumphed in death. 



SECTION IX. 
POLYCARP. 

PoLYCARP, an eminent Christian father, was 
born in the reign of Nero. Ignatius recommended 
the church at Antioch to the care and superin- 
tendence of this zealous father; who appears to 
have been unwearied in his endeavours to preserve 
the peace of the church, and to promote piety and 
virtue amongst men. 

During the persecution which raged at Smyrna, 
in the year 167, the distinguished character of 
Polycarp attracted the attention of the enemies 
of Christianity. The general outcry was, " Let 
Polycarp be sought for." When he was taken 
before the proconsul, he was solicited to reproach 
Christ, and save his life : but with a holy indigna- 
tion, he nobly replied : " Eighty and six years 
have I served Christ, who has never done me any 
injury : how then can I blaspheme my King and 
Saviour ?" 

When he was brought to the stake, the execu- 
tioner offered, as usual, to nail him to it ; but he 
said, " Let me alone as I am : he who has given 
me strength to come to the fire, will also give 



34 POLYCARP. 

me patience to abide in it, without being fastened 
with nails." 

Part of his last prayer, at his death, was as 
follows : " O God, the father of thy beloved son, 
Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the 
knowledge of thyself; God of angels and 
powers, of every creature, and of all the just who 
live in thy presence ; I thank thee, that thou hast 
graciously vouchsafed, this day and this hour, to 
allot me a portion amongst the number of martyrs. 

Lord receive me ; and make me a companion of 
the saints in the resurrection, through the merits 
of our great High Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ. 

1 praise and adore thee, through thy beloved Son , 
to whom, with thee, and thy Holy Spirit, be all 
honour and glory, both now and for ever. Amen " 



SECTION X. 
•iHE VENERABLE BEDE. 

Bede, surnamed the Venerable, was bom about 
the year 673, in the neighbourhood of Weremouth, 
in the bishopric of Durham. Losing both his 
parents at the age of seven years, he was, by his 
relations, placed in the monastery of Weremouth. 
He was educated there, with much strictness ; and 
it appears that, from his youth, he was devoted 
to the service of rehgion. He was ordained dea- 
con, in the nineteenth, and presbyter, in the thirti- 
eth year of his age. 

He applied himself entirely to the study of the 
Holy Scriptures, the instruction of disciples, the 
offices of public worship, and the composition of 
religious and literary works. He wrote on all the 
branches of knowledge then cultivated in Europe. 
In Greek and Hebrew he attained a skill, which 
w^as very uncommon in that barbarous age : and, 
by his instructions and example, he formed many 
scholars. He made all his attainments subservient 
to devotion. Sensible that it is by divine grace, 
rather than by our natural powers, or by learning, 
that the most profitable knowledge of the Scrip- 
tures is to be acquired, he united with his studies 



36 THE VENERABLE BEDE. 

regular prayer to God, that he would bless and 
sanctify them. 

Perhaps no person of his time acquired so dis- 
tinguished and widely-extended a reputation, as 
Bede ; a reputation too, entirely founded on the 
worth of his character, and the extent of his learn- 
ing. The Roman Pontiff respected him so highly, 
that he gave him a cordial invitation to the me- 
tropolis of the church : but this he thought propei 
to decline. In the eyes of Bede, the great world 
had no charms. 

Of his numerous and important writings, the 
greatest and most popular Was, his "English 
Ecclesiastical History.*' All the knowledge which 
we have of the early age of Christianity in 
this country, is derived from this production. — 
King Alfred so highly esteemed the work, that 
he translated it from the original Latin, into the 
Saxon language ; and, by this means, increased 
its celebrity. — The various merits of Bede ac- 
quire additional lustre, from the general igno- 
rance and corruptions of the time in which he 
lived. Notwithstanding this disadvantage, he ap- 
pears to have been a man of eminent virtue : 
and to have possessed the happy association of 
learning w^ith modesty, of devotion with liberality, 
and high reputation in the church with humility 
and moderation* 



^ TUB VENERABLE BEDE. 37 

In the last sickness of this pious and learned 
man, he was afflicted with a difficulty of breathing, 
which continued about two weeks. His mind was, 
however, serene and cheerful ; his affections were 
heavenly ; and amidst all his infirmities, he con- 
tinued daily to instruct his disciples. At this 
period, a great part of the night was spent in 
prayer and thanksgiving ; and the first employ- 
ment of the morning was, to ruminate on the 
Scriptures, and make supplication to God. 

Amidst his bodily weakness, his mind was still 
so active, that he employed himself in writing on 
religious subjects. His translation of the gospel 
of St. John, was not completed till the day of his 
death. "When, at last, he perceived that his end 
was drawing near, he met the solemn event, with 
great composure and satisfaction. "If my Maker 
please, (said he,) who formed me out of nothing, 
I am willing to leave the world, and go to him." — 
" My soul desires to see Christ, my king, in 
his beauty." He then, with pious elevation of 
mind, sung, "glory to the Father, to the Son, 
and to the Holy Spirit ;" and expired with such 
tranquillity and devotion, as greatly aflTected all 
who saw and heard him, 

4 



SECTION XI. 

LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANClT. 

Louis IX., styled St. Louis, succeeded to the 
crown of France, in the year 1226. This king 
possessed great wisdom, piety, and virtue. His 
reputation for candour and justice was so great, 
that the barons of England, as well as king 
Henry IH. consented to make him umpire of the 
differences which subsisted between them. Fen- 
elon says of this patriotic prince : " He was dis- 
tinguished by the nobleness of his sentiments: 
he was without haughtiness, presumption, or se- 
verity. In every respect, he attended to the real 
interests of his country, of which he was as truly 
the father as the king. 

An abhorrence of sin was so deeply impressed 
upon his mind, by a religious education, that he 
not only preserved it through the course of his 
life, but was zealous to inculcate it upon others. 
He was very solicitous that his children should 
be trained up in the fear and admonition of the 
Lord ; and used to devote a considerable part of 
his time to their religious instruction. He often 
related to them the punishments which the pride, 
the avarice, and the debauchery of princes, brought 
upon themselves and their people. 



Lt)UIS IX. KING OF FRANCE. 39 

In his last sickness, he earnestly exhorted Philip, 
his son and successor, firmly to adhere to religion, 
in his own private life and conduct, and zealously 
to promote it among his subjects. He also strong- 
ly recommended to him justice, moderation, 
and all the virtues becoming a sovereign and a 
Christian He strictly enjoined him never to suf- 
fer any one, in his presence, to speak disrespect- 
fully of the Almighty, or of those devoted to his 
service; or to utter a w^ord, tending, in the 
smallest degree, to countenance a crime. " God," 
said he, " grant you grace, my son, to do his will 
continually ; so that he may be glorified by your 
means, and that v^e may be with him after this 
life, and praise him eternally." 

His dying advice to his daughter Isabella, 
queen of Navarre, was also very expressive of his 
zeal for the cause of religion, and his solicitude for 
the welfare of his children. He wrote to her as 
follows : " My dear daughter, I conjure you to 
love our Lord with all your might : for this is the 
foundation of all goodness. No one is so worthy 
to be loved. Well may we say : * Lord, thou art 
our God, and our goods are nothing to thee.' 
It was the Lord who sent his Son upon earth, 
and delivered him over to death for our salvation. 
If you love him, my daughter, the advantage will 
be yours ; and be assured that you can never love 
and serve him too much. He has well deserved 



40 LOUIS IX. KING OF FRANCE. 

that we should love him ; for he first loved us. I 
wish you could comprehend what the Son of God 
has done for our redemption. My daughter, be 
very desirous to know how you may best please 
the Lord ; and bestow all your care to avoid every 
thing that may displease him. But particularly, 
never be guilty of any deliberate sin, though it 
were to save your life. Take pleasure in hearing 
God reverently spoken of, both in sermons and in 
private conversation. Shun too familiar discourse, 
except with very virtuous persons. Obey, my 
daughter, your husband, your father, and your 
mother, in the Lord : you are bound to do so, 
both for their sakes, and for the sake of him w^ho 
has commanded it. In what is contrary to the 
glory of God, you owe obedience to none. En 
deavour, my daughter, to be an example of good- 
ness to all who may see you, and to all who may 
hear of you. Be not too nice about dress : if yoi 
have too many clothes, give them aw^ay in charity. 
Beware also of having an excessive care of your 
furniture. — Aspire after a disposition to do the 
will of God, purely for his sake, independently of 
the hope of reward, or the fear of punishment." 

Thus did this prince teach his children ; and 
thus did he live himself. He died in great tr-^n- 
quillity, in the year 1270. 



SECTION XII. 
POPE EUGENIUS. 

Gabriel Condelmerius was raised to the 
Papal throne in the year 1431 ; and took the 
name of Eugenius'IV. From a low condition 
of life, and through various gradations of office, 
he ascended to this dignity. Being much averse 
to a reformation of doctrine and manners, he 
met with great opposition from some of the 
clergy ; but being of a determined spirit, he en- 
countered every danger, rather than yield to his 
opponents. He was often reduced to painful and 
mortifying situations, and experienced so many 
vicissitudes of life, that he had ample proof of the 
vanity and instability of human greatness. 

The reflection he is said to have made on his 
death-bed, is remarkable ; and shows that, in his 
greatest elevation, he did not find that peace and 
true enjoyment of mind, which he had possessed 
in an humble and retired situation. Being attended 
by a company of monks, he turned his face to- 
wards them, and said, with a voice, interrupted by 
sighs : " Oh Gabriel ! how much better would it 
have been for thee, and how much more would 
it have promoted thy soul's welfare, if thou hadst 
never been raised to the pontificate ; but been 
content to lead a quiet and religious life in thy 
monastery !" 

4* 



SECTION XIII. 



CARDINAL BEAUFORT. 



Cardinal Beaufort was of royal extraction, the 
son of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster ; and was 
commonly called, the rich cardinal of Winches- 
ter. It is generally believed that he concerted the 
death of Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, which 
was attributed to poison. History informs us, that 
he prevailed with the king, to grant him letters of 
pardon, for all offences contrary to the statutes 
then enacted in England. 

The wise son of Sirach exclaims, " O Death, how 
bitter is the remembrance of thee, to a man who 
is at ease in his possessions !" Of the truth of this 
sentiment, we have a remarkable proof, in the last 
moments of this ambitious cardinal. When he 
was arrested in the midst of his career, and the 
terrors of death were marshalled in horrid array 
before him, he thus complained, and vented his 
afflicted soul to his weeping friends around him : 
" And must I then die I Will not all my riches 
save me ? I could purchase the kingdom, if that 
would prolong my life. Alas ! there is no bribing 
death. When my nephew, the duke of Bedford 



ORDINAL BEAUFORT. 43 

died, I thought my happiness, and my authority 
greatly increased : but the duke of Gloucester's 
death raised me in fancy to a level with kings ; 
and I thought of nothing but accumulating still 
greater wealth, to enable me, at length, to pur 
chase the triple crown. Alas ! how are my hopes 
disappointed ! Wherefore, oh, my friends ! let me 
earnestly beseech you to pray for me, and recom- 
mend my departing soul to God." — Thus died this 
unhappy cardinal, in the year 1447. 



SECTION XIV, 
CiESAR BORGIA* 

C^SAR Borgia, a natural son of Pope Alexan* 
der VI., was a man of such conduct and cha* 
racter, that Machiavel has thought fit to propose 
him, m his famous book called, " The Prince," 
as an original and pattern to all princes, who 
would act the part of wise and politic tyrants. 
He was made a cardinal ; but as this office im- 
posed some restraints upon him, he soon deter- 
mined to resign it, that he might have the greater 
scope for practising the excesses, to which his 
natural ambition and cruelty prompted him ; for 
cruel, as well as ambitious, he was in the highest 
degree. After this, he was made duke of Valen- 
tinois, by Louis XII. of France. He experienced 
a variety of fortune ; but displayed, on every 
occasion, the most consummate dexterity and 
finesse, and seemed prepared for all events. The 
reflections he made a short time before his death, 
(which happened in the year 1507,) show, how- 
ever, that his policy was confined to the concerns 
of this life ; and that he had not acted Upon that 
wise and enlarged view of things, which becomes 
a being destined for immortality. " I had pro- 
vided," said he, " in the course of my life, for 
every thing, except death ; and now, alas ! I am 
to die, although entirely unprepared." 



1 

i 



CHAPTER 11. 

Cardinal Wolsey — Sir John Mason — Emperor Charles V 
— Sir Thomas Smith — Bernard Gilpin — Jane, Glueen 
of Navarre — Sir Francis Walsingham — Lady Jane 
Grey — Sir Walter Raleigh — Richard Hooker. 



SECTION I. 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

Thomas Wolsey, a distinguished person in 
the reign of Henry VHL, was born in the year 
1471 ; and it is said he was the son of a butcher 
at Ipswich. Being made chaplain to the king, he 
had great opportunities of gaining his favour ; to 
obtain which he practised all the arts of obsequi- 
ousness. Having gradually acquired an entire as- 
cendency over the mind of Henry, he successively 
obtained several bishoprics ; and, at length, was 
made archbishop of York, lord high chancellor of 
England, and prime minister ; and was, for several 
years, the arbiter of Europe. The emperor 
Charles the fifth, and the French king Francis the 
first, courted liis interest, and loaded him with 
favours. As his revenues were immense, and his 
influence unbounded, his pride and ostentation 



46 CARDINAL Vv^OLSEY. 

were carried to the greatest height. He had eight 
hundred servants ; amongst whom were nine or 
ten lords, fifteen knights, and forty esquires. 

From this great height of power and splendour, 
he was suddenly precipitated into ruin. His am- 
bition to be pope, his pride, his exactions, and his 
opposition to Henry's divorce, occasioned his dis- 
grace. This sad reverse so affected his mind as 
to bring on a severe illness, which soon put a pe- 
riod to his days. A short time before he left the 
world, the review of his life, and a consciousness 
of the misapplication of his time and talents, drew 
from him this sorrowful declaration : " Had I but 
serv^ed God as diligently as I have served the king, 
he would not have given me over in my gray 
hairs. But this is the just reward that I must re- 
ceive for my incessant pains and study, not re- 
garding my service to God, but only to my 
prince." 

With these painful reflections this famous car- 
dinal finished his course. He affords a memorable 
instance of the vanity and inconstancy of human 
things, both in his rise and fall ; and a striking 
admonition to those who are abusing the talents 
and opportunities, which God has given them to 
promote his honour and the happiness of raen. 



SECTION II. 

SIR JOHN MASON. 

A STRONG testimony to the importance of re- 
ligion, is given by Sir John Mason, who, though 
but 63 years old at his death, had flourished in 
the reign of four sovereigns, (Henry VIII., Ed- 
ward VL, Mary, and EHzabeth,) had been privy- 
counsellor to them all, and an attentive observer 
of the various revolutions and vicissitudes of those 
times. Towards his latter end, being on his 
death-bed, he spoke thus to those about him : " I 
have lived to see five sovereigns, and have been 
privy-counsellor to four of them. I have seen 
the most remarkable things in foreign parts, and 
have been present at most state transactions for 
the last thirty years : and I have learned, from the 
experience of so many years, that seriousness is jne 
greatest wisdom, temperance the best physic, and 
a good conscience the best estate. And were I to 
live again, I would change the court for a cloister, 
my privy-counsellor's bustle for a hermit's retire- 
ment, and the whole life I have lived in tlie 
palace, for an hour's enjoyment of God in the 
chapel. All things now forsake me, except my 
God, my duty, and my prayers." 



48 SIR JOHN MASON. 

The chief field, both of the duty and of the im 
provement of man, Hes in active hfe. By the 
graces and virtues which he exercises amidst his 
fellow-creatures, he is trained up for heaven. 
And since Divine Providence has established go- 
vernment and subordination amongst men, it fol- 
lows, that high offices and stations of dignity, are 
compatible with true religion. It is, however, pos- 
sible, that the minds of persons in authority, may 
be so much engaged with temporal concerns, as 
to leave little or no place for the higher duties of 
piety and devotion ; duties which purify and exalt 
our nature, and give a proper direction and limita- 
tion to all our laboiurs for the good of others. 

From the regret expressed by Sir John Mason, 
it appears that his error consisted, not in having 
served his king and country, in the eminent 
stations in which he had been placed ; but in hav- 
ing suffered his mind to be so much occupied with 
business, as to make him neglect, in some de- 
gree, the proper seasons of religious retirement, 
and the prime duties which he owed to his 
Creator. 



SECTION III. 
CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 

Charles V. emperor of Germany, king of 
Spain, and lord of the Netherlands, was born at 
Ghent, in the year 1500- 

He is said to have fought sixty battles, m most 
ot which he was victorious ; to have obtained six 
triumphs, conquered four kingdoms, and to have 
added eight principalities to his dominions : an 
almost unparalleled instance of worldly prosperi- 
ty, and the greatness of human glory. 

But all these fruits of his ambition, and all the 
honours that attended him, could not yield true 
and solid satisfaction. Reflecting on the evils 
and miseries which he had occasioned, and con- 
vinced of the emptiness of earthly magnificence, 
he became disgusted with all the splendour that 
surrounded him ; and thought it his duty to with- 
draw from it, and spend the rest of his days in 
religious ' retirement. Accordin.gly, he v(>hin~ 
tarily resigned all his dominions to his bmiher 
and son ; and after taking an affectionate and last 
farewell of the latter, and of a numerous retinue 
5 



50 CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 

of princes and nobility that respectfully attended 
him, he repaired to his chosen retreat. It was 
situated in Spain, in a vale of no great extent, 
^vatered by a small brook, and surrounded with 
rising grounds covered with lofty trees, 

A deep sense of his frail condition and great 
imperfections, appears to have impressed his 
mind, in this extraordinary resolution, and through 
the remainder of his life. As soon as he landed 
in Spain, he fell prostrate on the ground, and 
considering himself now as dead to the world, he 
kissed the earth, and said ; " Naked came I out 
of my mother's womb, and naked I now return to 
thee, thou common mother of mankind !" 

In this humble retreat he spent his time m 
religious exercises, and innocent employments ; 
and buried here, in solitude and silence, his gran- 
deur, his ambition, together with all those vast 
projects, which, for near half a century, had 
alarmed and agitated Europe, and filled every 
kingdom in it, by turns, with the terror of his 
arm.s, and the dread of being subjected to his 
power. Far from taking any part in the political 
transactions of the world, he restrained his curi- 
osity even from any inquiry concerning them ; 
and seemed to view the busy scene he had 
abandoned, with an elevation and indifference of 
mind, which arose from his thorough experience 



CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 51 

of its vanity, as well as from the pleasing reflec- 
tion of having disengaged himself from its cares 
and temptations. 

Here he enjoyed more solid happiness, than 
all his grandeur had ever yielded him : as a full 
proof of which he has left this short, but compre- 
hensive testimony : " I have tasted more satisfac- 
tion in my solitude, in one day, than in all the 
triumphs of my former reign. The sincere study, 
profession, and practice, of the Christian religion, 
have in them such joys and sweetness as are seldom 
found in courts and grandeur." 



SECTION IV. 



SIR THOMAS SMITH. 



Sir Thomas Smith was born in the year 1514, 
and received a liberal and polished education. Ip 
1542, he was made king's professor of civil law, 
in the university of Cambridge, and chancellor 
of the diocess of Ely. He was several times ein- 
ployed by Queen Elizabeth, as her ambassador to 
the court of France ; and executed the high office 
of secretary of state to that princess. His abili- 
ties were excellent, and his attainments uncom 
monly great. He was a philosopher, a physician, 
a chymist, a mathematician, a linguist, an histo- 
rian, and an architect. 

This distinguished person, a short time before 
Lis decease, was nuich affected by the prospect 
of his dissolution, and of a future state. He sent 
to his friends, the bishops of Winchester and 
Worcester, and entreated them to state to him, 
from the Holy Scriptures, the plainest and surest 
way of making his peace with God : adding, " It 
is lamentable, that men consider not for what 
end they are bom into the world, till they are 
ready to go out of it." 



SIR THOMAS SMITH. 63 

It is truly a sorrowful reflection, that the pur- 
suits of this life, and the love of the world, are 
often so much indulged, as to captivate the mind, 
and charm it into a state of insensibility to the 
great end of its existence. How much wiser and 
happier should we be, if we engaged in temporal 
concerns with moderation and restraint, the true 
way to extract all their good, and considered our- 
selves as strangers and pilgrims travelhng towards 
a better country ; instead of being occupied, un- 
der continual anxiety and frequent disappointments, 
m the delusive chase of interest and pleasure, till 
the scene is nearly closed, and the mind left to 
the anguish of a melancholy retrospect ! 

The flood of time is fast approaching : it will 
soon pass over us, and bury, in silence and obliv- 
ion, all our busy, fascinating schemes and engage- 
ments ; and leave nothing to survive the wreck, 
but virtue and goodness, and the consciousness 
of Divine favour. What urgent motives for cor- 
recting our terrestrial aims and labours, and for 
striving to become heirs of that kingdom, whose 
honours and enjoyments are perfect, and will last 
for ever! 5* 



SECTION V 



BERNARD GILPIN. 



Bernard Gilpin, a man of exalted virtue, and 
distinguished among his contemporaries by the 
title of The Apostle of the North, was descended 
from a respectable family in Westmoreland, and 
born in the year 1517. 

As he early discovered much seriousness of dis- 
position, and an inclination to a contemplative 
life, his parents determined to educate him to the 
church ; and accordingly placed him in a grammar 
school, where he passed through the different 
classes with great approbation. When he was 
sixteen years of age, he was sent to the university 
of Oxford, and entered a scholar on the founda- 
tion of Queen's college. In this situation, he soon 
became distinguished for the diligence with which 
he applied to his academical studies ; and for his 
proficiency in that knowledge, which the defec 
tive systems of education then existing afforded 
Of his great progress in the study of divinity, and 
of the Greek and Hebrew languages, his exercises 
and disputations in the public schools gave vepy 
satisfactory evidence, and recommended him to 
much notice in the university ; where he was, at 
the same time, admired and loved for the sweet- 
ness of his disposition, and the simplicity and gen- 
tleness of his manners. 

54 



BERNARD GILPIN. 65 

His attachment to the Roman Cathohc rehgion, 
m which he had been educated, was, for some 
time, strong and decided. But an honest and 
ardent desire to discover truth ; an unprejudiced 
study of the Holy Scriptures ; and frequent con- 
ferences with pious and learned men ; produced, 
at length, a thorough persuasion of the truth of the 
Protestant reformed religion. This cause he stead- 
ily and zealously supported, through the whole re- 
maining course of his life. 

The chief place of Gilpin's active and virtuous 
exertions, was in the county of Durham. After 
having resigned several benefices, which the oppo- 
sition of his enemies, and other circumstances, 
would not permit him to occupy with satisfac- 
tion, he accepted the rectory of Houghton-le- 
Bpring. This living was of considerable value ; 
out the duty of it was proportionably laborious. 
[t was so extensive, that it contained not fewer 
than fourteen villages. It had been much neglect- 
ed ; and in it there scarcely remained any traces 
of true Christianity. Gilpin was grieved to see the 
ignorance and vice, which so greatly prevailed in 
the places under his care. But he did not despair 
of bringing into order a waste so miserably uncul- 
tivated : and, by resolution, diligence, prudence, 
and perseverance, he finally succeeded in producing 
an astonishing change, not only in the character 
and manners of his own parishioners, but of the 



56 BERNARD GILPIN. 

savage inhabitants in other northern districts. — 
On his arrival among them, the people crov^ded 
about him, and listened to his discourses with 
great attention, perceiving him to be a teacher 
of a very different kind from those, to whom they 
had hitherto been accustomed ; and by his truly 
pastoral and affectionate treatment of them, he 
quickly gained their confidence, respect, and at- 
tachment. 

Gilpin had not been long settled at Houghton, 
before Bishop Tonstal was desirous of still farther 
improving his fortime, by presenting him to a 
vacant prebend in the cathedral of Durham. But, 
resolving not to accept it, he told the bishop, 
that, " by his bounty, he had already more wealth 
than, he was afraid, he could give a good account 
of. He begged, therefore, that he might not 
have an additional charge ; but rather that his 
lordship w^ould bestow this preferment on one by 
whom it was more wanted." In these perilous 
times, (the reign of the sanguinary Queen Mary,) 
his steady, though mild and temperate, adherence 
to the reformed religion, involved him in many 
dangers and difficulties ; from which he was often 
happily extricated, under Divine Providence, by 
the favour of Bishop Tonstal, and by his own 
judicious conduct. The malice of his enemies 
was probably increased by his unaffected piety, 
and exemplary life ; which formed a striking 



1 



BERNARD GILPIN. 57 

satire on their negligence and irregularities. They 
determined, therefore, to remove, if possible, so 
disagreeable a contrast, and so able a reformer. 
After many unsuccessful attempts to disgrace and 
destroy him, their hatred so far prevailed, that 
they procured an order from the merciless Bonner, 
bishop of London, to have him arrested and 
brought to that city ; where, the bishop declared, 
he should be at the stake in a fortnight. Gilpin 
was speedily apprized by his friends of the 
measures determined against him ; and earnestly 
entreated to provide for his safety, by withdrawing 
from the kingdom. But their persuasions were 
ineffectual ; for having been long preparing him- 
self to suffer for the truth, he now determined not 
to decline it. He therefore, with great composure, 
waited for the arrival of the bishop's messengers, 
after having ordered his servant to provide a long 
garment for him, in which he might go decently 
to the stake. In a few days he was apprehended ; 
but before he reached London, an account of 
Queen Mary's death was received ; by which event 
he was delivered from any farther prosecution. 
Thus providentially rescued from his enemies, he 
returned to Houghton through crowds of people, 
who expressed the utmost joy, and rendered thanks 
to God for his deliverance. 

On the accession of Elizabeth, he was offered 
the bishopric of Carlisle but this he modestly and 



58 BERNARD GILPIN. 

firmly declined to accept. Not long afterward, 
the provostship of Queen's college, Oxford, was 
tendered to him. This honour and emolument he 
likewise declined. He believed that he could be 
more useful, in his present charge at Houghton, 
than elsewhere : and this was a consideration su- 
perior to every other, in the mind of the pious and 
benevolent Gilpin. 

Eminent as his labours and generosity were, he 
was still unsatisfied with the services he had ren 
dered to his fellow-creatures : and therefore, to 
the surprise of his friends, he undertook to build 
and endow a grammar school; a design which, 
his great management and frugality enabled him to 
accomplish. The school began to flourish as soon 
as it was opened ; and there w^as so great a resort 
of young people to it, that in a little time the 
town was not able to accommodate them. Gilpin 
therefore fitted up a part of his own house for 
that purpose ; where he boarded twenty or thirty 
children ; and bestowed clothing and maintenance 
on the greater part of them, whose parents were in 
poor circumstances. 

Gilpin's hospitable manner of living was the ad- 
miration of the whole country. Strangers and 
travellers found a cheerful reception at his board. 
He was also pleased with the company of men of 
worth and letters, who used much to frequent his 



BERNARD GILPIN. 69 

house. When Lord Burleigh, then lord-treasurer, 
was sent by Queen Elizabeth to transact some 
affairs in Scotland, he could not resist the desire 
which he felt, on his return, to see a man whose 
name he found every where mentioned with the 
highest respect. He had not time to give any 
notice of his intended visit ; but the economy of 
so plentiful a house was not easily disconcerted. 
Gilpin received his noble guest with so much true 
politeness ; and treated him and his whole retinue 
in so affluent and generous a manner, that the 
treasurer often afterwards said, " he could hardly 
have expected more at Lambeth." While Lord 
Burleigh stayed at Houghton, he took great pains 
to acquaint himself with the order and regularity, 
with which every thing in that house was managed ; 
and he was not a little pleased with the result of 
his inquiries. There too he saw true simplicity 
of manners ; and ever)^ social virtue regulated by 
exact prudence. The statesman began to un- 
bend; and he could scarcely avoid comparing, 
with a kind of envious eye, the unquiet scenes of 
vice and vanity in which he was engaged, with 
the calmness of this interesting retreat. At length, 
with reluctance, he took his leave, embracing the 
worthy rector with all the warmth of affection, 
and the strongest assurances of his readiness to 
render him any services at court, or elsewhere. 
When he had mounted a hill about a mile from 
Houghton, and which commands the vale, he 



60 BERNARD GILPIN. 

turned his horse to take one more view of the 
place ; and having kept his eye fixed upon it for 
some time, he broke out into these exclamations : 
" There is the enjoyment of life indeed ! Who can 
blame that man for not accepting a bishopric? 
What does he want to make him greater, or hap- 
pier, or more useful to mankind ?" 

After the lapse of many years spent in the 
cheerful, but laborious discharge of duty, this pious 
man perceived, from his many infirmities, that his 
end was drawing near. He told his friends his ap- 
prehensions ; and spoke of his death with that 
happy composure which usually attends the con- 
clusion of a good life. He was soon after confined 
to his chamber. His understanding continued 
perfect to the last. Of the manner of his taking 
leave of the w^orld,we have the following account* 

A few days before his death, having ordered 
himself to be raised in his bed, he sent for the 
poor ; and beckoning them to his bed-side, he 
told them, he perceived that he was going out of 
the world. He trusted they would be his witnes- 
ses at the great day, that he had endeavoured to 
do his duty among them ; and he prayed God to 
remember them after he was gone. He would not 
have them weep for him. If ever he had told them 
any thing good, he would have them remember 
that in his stead. Above all things, he exhorted 



BERNARD GILPIN. 61 

them to fear God, and keep his commandments ; 
telHng them, if they would do this, they could never 
be left comfortless. 

He next ordered his scholars to be called in. 
To these, likewise, he made a short speech, re- 
minding them, that this was their time, if they had 
any desire to qualify themselves for being of use 
in the world : that learning was well worth their 
attention, but that virtue was of much greater im- 
portance to them. 

He next exhorted his servants : and then sent 
for several persons, who had not profited by his 
advice, according to his wishes, and upon, whom 
he imagined his dying words might have a better 
effect. His speech began to falter before he had 
finished his exhortations. The remaining hours of 
his life, he spent in prayer, and in broken con- 
versations with some select friends. He often 
mentioned the consolations of Christianity; de- 
clared that they were the only true ones ; and 
that nothing else could bring a man peace at the 
last. — He died in 1583, and in the sixty-sixth year 
of his age. 

In the preceding sketch of the life of this emi- 
nent Christian, and in the account of his death, we 
perceive the animating power of religion on his 
mind. The following faithful summary of his 

6 



62 BERNARD GILPIN. 

character, marks very conspicuously the happy in 
fiuence of the same Divine principle ; and exhibits 
to every reader a most instructive lesson. 

The natural disposition of this worthy man, was 
of a serious cast : yet among his particular friends 
he was uncommonly cheerful, sometimes facetious. 
His general behaviour was very affable. His se- 
verity had no object but himself : to others, he was 
gentle, candid, and indulgent. Never did vhtue 
sit with greater ease on any one ; had less mo- 
roseness ; or could mix more agreeably with what- 
ever was innocent in common life. 

He had a most extraordinary skill in the art of 
managing a fortune. He considered himself barely 
as a steward for other people : and took care, 
therefore, that his own desires never exceeded 
what calm reason could justify. Extravagance 
was, with him, another word for injustice. Amidst 
all his business, he found leisure to look into his 
affairs ; well knowing that frugality is the support 
of charity. 

He was the most candid interpreter of the words 
and actions of others : where he plainly saw fail- 
ings, he would make every possible allowance foi 
them. He used to express a particular indignation 
at slander ; often saying, " Slander, more than 
theft, deserves the gallows." He was remarkably 



BERNARD GILPIN. 63 

guarded when he spoke of others : he considered 
common fame as a false medium, and a man's 
reputation as his most valuable property. 

His sincerity was such as became his other 
virtues. He had the strictest regard to truth, of 
which his whole life was one consistent example 
All little arts and sinister practices, those ingredi- 
ents of worldly prudence, he disdained. His per- 
severance in so commendable a practice, in what- 
ever difficulties it might at first involve him, 
raised his character, in the issue, above mahce and 
envy ; and gave him that w^eight and influence in 
every thing he undertook, which nothing but an 
approved sincerity can give. 

Whatever his other virtues were, their lustre 
was greatly increased by his humility. To con- 
quer religious pride, is one of the best effects of 
religion : an effect which his religion in the most 
striking manner produced. 

With regard to his clerical office, no man could 
be more strongly influenced by a desire of dis- 
charging his duties. As soon as he undertook the 
care of a parish, it engrossed his attention. The 
pleasures of life he totally relinquished, and even 
restrained his favourite pursuits of literature. 
This was the more commendable in him, as he 
always had a strong inclination for retirement; 



64 BERNARD GILPIN. 

and was often violently tempted to shut liimself 
up in some university at home or abroad, and live 
there sequestered from the world. But his con 
science corrected his inclination ; as he thought 
the hfe of a mere recluse, by no means agreeable 
to the active principles of Christianity. The very 
repose to which his age laid claim, he would not 
indulge ; but, as long as he had strength sufficient, 
he persevered in the laborious discharge of the 
various duties of his station, and in the exercise 
of a most extensive charity. 

In respect to his benevolence, it may justly be 
said, that no man had more disinterested views, 
or made the common good more the study of his 
life ; which was indeed, the best comment on the 
great Christian principle of universal charity. He 
called nothing his own : there was nothing he 
could not readily part with for the service of others. 
In his charitable distributions, he had no measure 
but the bounds of his income, a small portion of 
which was always laid out on himself. Nor did 
he give as if he were granting a favour, but as if 
he were paying a debt : all obsequious service oi 
acknowledgment, the generosity of his heart dis- 
dained. 

No part of his character was more conspicuous 
than his piety. He thought religion was his prin- 
cipal concern: and, of course, made the attain- 



i 



BERNARD GILPIN. 65 

ment of just notions respecting it, his chief study. 
To what was matter of mere speculation, he paid 
little or no regard : such opinions only as influ- 
enced practice, he thought concerned him. He 
knew no other end of religion than a holy life : and 
therefore in all his inquiries about it, he consider- 
ed himself as looking after truths, which were 
to influence his conduct, and make him a better 
man. All his moral virtues became Christian ones : 
they were formed upon such motives, and they 
respected such ends, as Ciiristianity approves and 
directs. It was his daily care to conform himself 
to the will of God ; upon whose providence he 
absolutely depended, in all conditions of life. He 
was resigned, easy, and cheerful, under whatever 
commonly reputed misfortunes he met with. Be- 
lieving in a particular providence, he was grateful 
to Heaven for every benefit ; and studied to im- 
prove religiously every afflictive event. 

Such were the life and character of this distin- 
guished person. A conduct so agreeable to the 
strictest rules of religion and morality, gained him, 
among his contemporaries, as was before observed, 
the title of the Northern Apostle. The parallel was 
indeed striking. His quitting the ancient doc- 
trines, in the utmost reverence of wliich he had 
been educated ; the persecutions he met witli for 
the sake of his integrity ; tlie danger he often ran 
of martyrdom ; his contempt of the world ; his 

6* 



66 BERNARD GILPIN. 

unwearied application to the business of his cal- 
Ung : and the boldness and freedom with which 
he reproved the guilty, whatever their fortunes or 
stations were ; might justly characterize him a 
truly apostolical person. 

Viewed with such a life, how mean and con- 
temptible do the idle amusements of the w^orld 
appear ! how trifling that uninterrupted succes- 
sion of serious folly, which engages a great part 
of mankind, who crowd into a small compass 
every important concern of life ! How much more 
nobly does that person act, who, unmoved by all 
that the world calls great and happy, can separate 
appearances from realities, and attend only to what 
is just and right ; who, not content with the clos- 
est attainment of speculative virtue, maintains 
each worthy resolution that he forms ; and per- 
severes steadily, like this excellent man, in the 
conscientious discharge of the duties of that sta- 
tion, whatever it be, in which Providence has 
placed him ! 

This memoir is principally taken from a work entitled, " The 
Life of Bernard Gilpin : by William Gilpin, M. A.'* It is a 
valuable and interesting piece of bio^aphy. 



SECTION VI. 
JANE, QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 

This excellent queen was the daughter of 
Henry IL, king of Navarre, and of Margaret of 
Orleans, sister to Francis I., king of France. She 
was born in the year 1528. 

From her childhood, she was carefully educated 
in the Protestant religion, to which she steadfastly 
adhered all her days. Bishop Burnet says of her : 
" That she both received the Reformation, and 
brought her subjects to it : that she not only re- 
formed her court, but the whole principality, to 
such a degree, that the Golden Age seemed to 
have returned under her ; or rather, Christianity 
appeared again with its primitive purity and lustre," 

This illustrious queen, being invited to attend 
the nuptials of her son and the king of France's 
sister, fell a sacrifice to the cruel machinations 
of the French court, against the Protestant reli- 
gion. The religious fortitude and genuine piety, 
with which she was endued, did not, however, 
desert her in this great conflict, and at the ap- 
proach of death. 



68 JANEj QUEEN OF NAYARRE. 

To some that were about her, near the con 
elusion of her time, she said : " I receive all 
this as from the hand of God. my most merciful 
Father : nor have I, during my extremity, feared 
to die, much less murmured against God for 
inflicting this chastisement upon me ; knowing 
that whatsoever he does with me, he so orders it, 
that, in the end, it shall turn to my everlasting 
good.'' 

When she saw her ladies and women weeping 
about her bed, she blamed them, saying : " Weep 
not for me, I pray you. God, by this sickness, 
calls me hence to enjoy a better life : and now 
I shall enter into the desired haven, towards which 
this frail vessel of mine has been a long time 
steering." 

She expressed some concern for her children, 
as they would be deprived of her in their tender 
years ; but added : " I doubt not that God him- 
self w^ill be their father and protector, as he has 
ever been mine in my greatest afflictions : I, there- 
fore, commit them wholly to his government and 
fatherly care. — I believe that Christ is my only 
Mediator and Saviour ; and I look for salvation 
from no other. O my God ! in thy good time, 
deliver me from the troubles of this present life, 
that I may attain to the felicity which thou hast 
promised to bestow upon me." 



SECTION vir. 
SIR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM. 

Sir Francis Walsingham, an eminent person 
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was born at 
Chislehurst in Kent, of an ancient and honour- 
able family. He made great progress in his 
studies at Cambridge : and, to complete his educa- 
tion, travelled into foreign countries, where he 
acquired various languages, and great accomplish- 
ments. He was three times sent ambassador to 
France. Queen Elizabeth made him secretary 
of state, and employed him in the most important 
affairs. He had, indeed, a great share in pro- 
moting and accomplishing the extraordinary meas- 
ures which distinguished that illustrious reign. 
It may be justly said, that he was one of the 
most refined pohticians, and most penetrating 
statesmen, that are known in histor}^ He had 
an admirable talent, both in discovering, and man- 
aging the secret recesses of the heart. To his 
sagacity and diligence, under Divine Providence, 
may be attributed the defeat of the king of Spain's 
grand Armada. 

This great man furnished a remarkable proof 
of his disinterestedness, and his preference of the 
public, to his private interest : for after all his 
eminent services to his country, he was so poor, 
that, excepting his library, which was a very fine 



70 SIR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM. 

one, he had scarcely effects enough to defray the 
expense of his funeral. 

Some time before his death, which happened 
in 1590, he became deeply impressed with a sense 
of the superior importance of religion to all other 
considerations. In a letter to his fellow-secretary 
Burleigh, lord-treasurer of England, he writes 
thus : " We have lived enough to our country, 
our fortunes, our sovereign; it is high time to 
begin to live to ourselves, and to our God." This 
giving occasion for some facetious person of the 
court, to visit, and to try to divert him ; he ex- 
pressed himself to the following effect : " Ah ! 
while we lauo^h, all thin^^s are serious around us. 
God is serious who preserves us, and has patience 
towards us ; Christ is serious who shed his blood 
for us ; the Holy Spirit is serious when he strives 
Avith us ; the whole creation is serious in serving God 
and us ; all are serious in another world : how suit- 
able then is it, for a man who has one foot in the grave, 
to be serious ! and how can he be gay and trifling?'* 

This enlightened and excellent person was, 
doubtless, friendly to a cheerful temper of mind, 
and to innocent recreations, on all suitable occa- 
sions : but he knew and felt, that there are events 
and circumstances in our lives, which call for pe- 
culiar circumspection and seriousness, as most con- 
genial with our situation, and most conducive to 
our best interests. 



SECTION VIII. 
LADY JANE GREY. 

This excellent personage was descended from 
the royal line of England, by both her parents. 
She was carefully educated in the principles of 
the Reformation. Besides the solid endowments 
of piety and virtue, she possessed the most enga- 
ging disposition, and the most accomplished parts. 
Being of an equal age with king Edward VI., she 
received her education with him, and seemed 
even to possess a greater facility in acquiring 
every part of manly and classical literature. She 
attained a knowledo-e of the Roman and Greek 
languages, as well as of several modern tongues ; 
passed most of her time in application to learning; 
and expressed a great indifference for the occu- 
pations and amusements usual with persons of her 
sex and station. Roger Ascham, tutor to the 
princess Elizabeth, having at one time paid her 
a visit, found her employed in reading Plato, 
while the rest of the family were engaged in a 
party of hunting in the park ; and upon his ad- 
miring the singularity of her choice, she told 
him, that '* she received more pleasure from tliat 
author, than others could reap from all their sports 
and gayety." 



72 LADY J AXE GREY. 

This amiable lady fell an innocent victim to 
the wild ambition of the duke of Nortlmmberland ; 
who having effected a marriage between her and 
his son. Lord Guildford Dudley, raised her to the 
throne of England, in defiance of the rights of the 
princesses Mary and Elizabeth. At the time of 
her marriage, she was but eighteen years of age ; 
and her husband was also very young. 

Her heart, replete with the love of literature 
and serious studies, and with tenderness towards 
her husband, who was deserving of her affection, 
had never opened itself to the flattering allure- 
ments of ambition ; and the information of her 
advancement to the throne, was by no means 
agreeable to her. She even refused to accept the 
crown ; pleaded the superior right of the two 
princesses ; expressed her dread of the conse- 
quences attending an enterprise so dangerous, 
not to say so criminal ; and desired to remain in 
that private station in which she vras bom. Over- 
come at last by the entreaties, rather than by the 
reasons, of her father and father-in-law, and, 
above all, of her husband, she submitted to their 
will, and was prevailed on to relinquish her own 
judgment. But her elevation was of very short 
continuance. The nation declared for Queen 
Mary : and Lady Jane Grey, after wearing the 
vain pageantry of a crowTi, during ten days, re- 
turned to a private life, with much more satis- 



1 



LADY JANE GREY. 73 

faction than she could have felt when royalty was 
tendered to her. 

Queen Mary, who appears to have been in- 
capable of generosity or clemency, determined to 
remove every person from whom the least danger 
could be apprehended. Warning was, therefore, 
given to Lady Jane to prepare for death ; a doom 
which she had expected, and which the innocence 
of her life, as vv^cll as the misfortunes to which 
she had been exposed, rendered no unwelcome 
nev/s to her. The queen's bigoted zeal, under 
colour of tender mercy to the prisoner's soul, in- 
duced her to send priests, who molested her with 
perpetual disputation ; and even a reprieve of 
three days was granted her, in hopes that she 
would be persuaded, during that time, to pay, by 
a timely conversion to popery, some regard to her 
eternal welfare. Lady Jane had presence of mind, 
in those melancholy circumstances, not only to 
defend her religion by solid arguments, but als» 
to write a letter to her sister, in the Greek lan- 
guage ; in which she exhorted her to maintain, in 
every fortune, a like steady perseverance. On the 
day of her execution, her husband. Lord Guild- 
ford, desired permission to see her ; but she re- 
fused her consent, and sent him word, that the 
tenderness of their parting would overcome the 
fortitude of both, and would too much unbend 
ihcir minds from that constancy, which their ap- 

7 



74 LADY JANE GREY. 

proaching end required. Their separation, slie 
said, would be only for a moment ; and they 
would soon rejoin each other in a scene where 
their aflfections would be for ever united, and where 
death, disappointments, and misfortunes, could no 
longer have access to them, or di^sturb their eternal 
felicity- 
It had been intended to execute the Lady Jane 
and her husband^ on the same scaffold, at Tower- 
hill ; but the council dreading the compassion of 
the people for their youth, beauty, innocence, 
and noble birth, changed their orders, and gave 
directions that they should be beheaded withjn 
the verge of the Tov/en She saw her husband 
led to execution ; and, having given him from the 
window some token of her remembrance, waited 
with tranquillity till her own appointed hour 
should bring her to a like fate. She even saw his 
headless body carried back in a cart ; and found 
herself more confirmed by the reports which she 
heard of the constancy of his end, than shaken by 
so tender and melancholy a spectacle. Sir John 
Gage, constable of the Tower, when he led her 
to execution, desired her to bestow on him some 
small present, which he might keep as a perpetual 
memorial of her. She gave him her table-book, 
on which she had just written three sentences, on 
seeing her husband's dead body ; one in Greek, 
another in Latin, a third in English. The purport 



LADY JANE GREY. 76 

of them was, that human justice was against his 
body, but that Divine Mercy would be favourable 
to his soul ; that if her fault deserved punishment, 
her youth, at least, and her imprudence, were 
worthy of excuse; and that God and posterity, 
she trusted, would show her favour. On the 
scaffold, she made a speech to the bystanders, 
in which the mildness of her disposition, led her 
to take the blame entirely on herself, without 
uttering one complaint against the severity with 
which she had been treated. She said, that her 
offence was, not that she had laid her hand upon the 
crown, but that she had not rejected it with suffi- 
cient constancy : that she had erred less through 
ambition, than through reverence to her parents, 
whom she had been taught to respect and obey : 
that she willingly received death, as the only satis- 
faction which she could now make to the injured 
state ; and though her infringement of the laws 
had been constrained, she would show, by her 
voluntary submission to their sentence, that she 
was desirous to atone for that disobedience, into 
which too much filial piety had betrayed her : that 
she had justly deserved this punishment, for be- 
ing made the instrument, though the unwilling 
instrument, of the ambition of others : and that 
the story of her life, she hoped, might at least be 
useful, by proving that innocence of intention 
excuses not actions that any way tend to the de- 
struction of the commonwealth. After uttering 



76 LADY JANE GrxEY. 

these words, she caused herself to be disrobed by 
her women ; and w^ith a steady, serene counle 
nance, submitted herself to the executioner 

We shall conclude the account of this virtuous 
and excellent young person, with a few remarks 
respecting her, made by bishop Burnet : " She 
read," says he, *^ the Scriptiu-es much, and had at- 
tained great knowledge of religious subjects. 
But with all her advantages of birth and parts, she 
was so humble, so gentle and pious, that all peo- 
ple both admired and loved her. She had a mind 
%vonderfull3" raised above the world ; and at the 
age, when others are but imbibing the notions of 
philosophy, she had attained the practice of the 
highest precepts of it, Slie was neither lifted up 
with the hope of a crown, nor cast down, when 
she saw her palace made afterwards her prison ; 
but maintained an equal temper of mind in 
those great inequalities of fortmie, that so sudden- 
ly exalted and depressed her. All the passion 
which she expressed, was that which is of the 
noblest sort, and which is the indication of tendci 
and generous natures, being much affected with 
the troubles which her husband and father suf- 
fered on her account. She rejoiced at her ap- 
proaching end, since nothing could be to hei 
more welcome, than to pass from this valley of 
misery, to that heavenly throne to which she was 
to be advanced." 



SECTION IX. 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 



Sir Walter Raleigh, an illustrious English- 
man, of an ancient family in Devonshire, was 
born in 1552. He was a man of admirable parts, 
extensive knowledge, undaunted resolution, and 
strict honour and honesty. As a soldier, a states- 
man, and a scholar, he was greatly distinguished ; 
and was eminently useful to Queen Ehzabeth, 
vi^ho protected and encouraged him in the various 
enterprises which he projected. He was the dis- 
coverer of Virginia ; and took effectual measures 
for the settlement of the country, and for promo- 
ting its prosperity. 

His active enterprises against the Spaniards, 
both in Europe and South America, excited the 
particular enmity of the court of Spain, which 
used every means to effect his destruction. Du- 
ring the reign of Elizabeth, these machinations 
were fruitless ; but on the accession of James I., 
Sir Walter lost his interest at court, was stripped 
of his employments, and unjustly accused and 
condemned for a plot against the king. He was 
afterwards trusted by James with a commission 
of considerable importance ; and thus virtually 
7* 



78 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 

pardolied for all supposed offences. The malice 
of his enemies, however, at length prevailed 
against him ; and he was pusillanimously sacri- 
ficed to appease the Spaniards, who, whilst Ra- 
leigh lived, thought every part of their dominions 
in danger. 

He was executed in Old Palace Yard, in the 
66th year of his age. His behaviour on the scaf- 
fold was manly, unaffected, and even cheerful. — 
Being asked by the executioner which way he 
would lay his head, he answered : — " So the 
heart be right, it is no matter which way the 
head lies." 

During his imprisonment, and with the prospect 
of death before him, he wrote the following letters 
to his son, and to his wife. They contain many 
solemn and affecting admonitions ; and testify the 
influence of religion on his mind. 

In the letter to his son, he says : " My son, let 
my experienced advice, and fatherly instructions, 
sink deep into thy heart. Seek not riches basel)^, 
nor attain them by evil means. Destroy no man 
for his wealth, nor take any thing from the poor ; 
for the cry thereof will pierce the heavens : and it 
is most detestable before God, and most dishonour- 
able before worthy men, to wrest any thing from 
the needy and labouring soul. God will never 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 79 

prosper thee, if thou offendest therein. Use thy 
poor neighbours and tenants well. Have compas- 
sion on the poor and afflicted, and God will bless 
thee for it. Make not the hungry soul sorrowful : 
for if he curse thee in the bitterness of his soul, 
his piayer shall be heard of him that made him. 

" Now, for the world, dear child, I know it too 
well to persuade thee to dive into the practices 
of it : rather stand upon thy guard against all 
those that tempt thee to it, or may practise upon 
thee, whether in thy conscience, thy reputation, or 
thy estate. Be assured that no man is wise or safe, 
but he that is honest. Serve God ; let him be the 
author of all thy actions. Commend all thy en- 
deavours to him, that must either wither or pros- 
per them. Please him with prayer; lest if he 
frown, he confound all thy fortune and labour, like 
the drops of rain upon the sandy ground. So 
God direct thee in all thy ways, and fill thy heart 
with his grace !" 

THE FOLLOWING IS A COPY OP THE LETTER TO HIS 
WIFE. 

" You will receive, my dear wife, my last words, 
in these my last lines. My love I send you, which 
you may keep when I am dead; and my counsel, 
that you may remember it, when I am no more* 



80 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 

I would not, with my will, present you sorrows, 
dear wife ; let them go to the grave with me, 
and be buried in the dust: and seeing that.it is 
not the will of God that I shall see you any more, 
bear my destruction patiently, and with a heart 
like yourself. First, I send you all the thanks 
which my heart can conceive, or my words ex- 
press, for your many travails and cares for me : 
for though they have not taken effect, as you 
wished, yet my debt to you is not the less ; but 
pay it I never shall in this world. Secondly, I 
beseech you, for the love you bear me living, that 
you do not hide yourself many days ; but by your 
travails seek to help my miserable fortunes, and 
the right of your poor child : your mourning can- 
not avail me, who am but dust. Thirdly, you 
shall understand, that my lands were conveyed, 
bona Jide^ to my child : the writings were drawn 
at midsummer was a twelvemonth, as divers can 
witness. I trust my blood will quench their 
malice who desired my slaughter ; and that they 
will not seek to kill you and yours with extreme 
poverty. 

" To what friend to direct you, I know not ; 
for all mine have left me in the true time of trial. 
Most sorry am I, that being surprised by death, 
I can leave you no better estate : God hath pre- 
vented all my determinations; that great God, 
who worketh all in all. If you can live free from 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 81 

want, care for no more ; for the rest is but vanity. 
Love God, and begin betimes ; in him you will 
find true and endless comfort : when you have 
travailed and wearied yourself with all sorts of 
worldly cogitations, you will sit down with sorrow 
in the end. Teach your son also to serve and 
fear God whilst he is young, that the fear of God 
may grow up in him : then will God be a husband 
to you, and a father to him ; a husband and a father 
that can never be taken from you. 

" Dear wife, I beseech you, for my souFs sake, 
pay all poor men. When I am dead, no doubt 
you will be much sought unto ; for the world 
thinks I was very rich. Have a care of the fair 
pretences of men ; for no greater misery can be- 
fall you in this life, than to become a prey unto the 
world, and afterwards to be despised. As for me, 
I am no more yours, nor you mine : death has 
cut us asunder, and God has divided me from the 
world, and you from me. Remember your poor 
child, for his father's sake, who loved you in his 
happiest estate. I sued for my life ; but, God 
knows, it was for you and yours, that I desired it .' 
for know it, my dear wife, your child is the child 
of a true man, who in his own respect dcspiseth 
death and his mis-shapen and ugly forms. — 
I cannot wrrite much : God knows how hardly I 
steal this time, when all are asleep : and it is 
also time for me to separate my thoughts from the 



82 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 

world. Beg my dead body, which Hving was de- 
nied you ; and either lay it in Sherborne, or in 
Exeter church, by my father and mother. 

** I can say no more : time and death call me 
aw\ay. The everlasting God, powerful, infinite, 
and inscrutable ; God Almighty, who is goodness 
itself, the true light and life, keep you and yours, 
and have mercy upon me, and forgive my perse- 
cutors and false accusers, and send us to meet in 
his glorious kingdom ! My dear wife, farewell ! 
bless my boy ; pray for me ; and may my true 
God hold you both in his arms ! 

"Yours that was, but not now^ mine own. 

** Walter Raleigh.**' 



I 



4 



SECTION X. 



RICHARD HOOKER. 



Richard Hooker was born near Exeter, in 
the year 1553. He possessed great learning and 
sound judgment; and distinguished himself by 
a celebrated work, entitled, " The Laws of Eccle- 
siastical Polity." He was a meek and pious man, 
and spent his days in labouring to promote the 
glory of his Creator, and the happiness of men. 

In 1585, he was made master of the Temple, 
which was deemed, by most persons, a noble pre- 
ferment. But it was not so suitable to Hooker's 
temper, as the retirement of a living in the coun- 
try ; especially as he had to encounter much oppo- 
sition. He therefore entreated the archbishop 
to remove him to a more peaceful residence. — 
" When I lost (said he) the freedom of my cell, 
which was my college, yet I found some de- 
gree of it in my quiet country parsonage. — 
But I am weary of the noise and oppositions of 
this place : and, indeed, God and nature did not 
intend me for contentions, but for study and 
quietness." — ^His desire was, to be placed in a 



84 RICHARD HOOKER. 

situation, "where (as he piously expresses him 
self) I may see God's blessings spring out of the 
earth, and eat my own bread, in peace and 
privacy ; a place ^Yhere I may, without disturb- 
ance, meditate on my approaching mortality, and 
on that great account, which all flesh must give, 
at the last day, to the God of all spirits." 

His exemplary and peaceable life did not, how- 
ever, secure him from enemies, by whom he was 
grossly calumniated, and charged with conduct 
wdiich he abhorred. Over these attacks, the good 
providence of God enabled him, at length, to 
triumph ; and his slanderers were convicted, and 
duly punished. His grateful acknowledgments 
to Heaven, for this deliverance, were expressed 
in these terms : — '' my God, neither my life, 
nor my reputation, is safe in my ow^n keeping ; 
but in thine, who didst care for me, when I yet 
hung on my mother's breast. Blessed are they 
w^ho put their trust in thee : for when false wit- 
nesses were risen up against me ; when shame 
w^as ready to cover my face; when I was bowed 
down with a horrible dread, and w^ent mourning 
all the day long ; then thou, Lord, didst hear 
my complaint, pity my condition, and art now be- 
come my deliverer. As long as I live, I wull 
magnify thy mercy, who didst not give me over to 
my enemies." 



RICHARD HOOKER. 85 

When his slanderers were about to be punished, 
he endeavoured to procure their pardon : but 
finding his labours for this purpose fruitless, he 
observed, that " he would, however, pray, that 
God would give them repentance, and patience 
to undergo their punishment." — After this deliv- 
erance, he was often heard to say : " 0, with what 
quietness did I enjoy my soul, after I was free 
from the fears of this slander ! And how much 
more, after the conflict with myself, and the vic- 
tory over my desires of revenge !" 

Hooker was not happy in his marriage : but he 
endeavoured to profit by this trial, and to be 
cheerfully resigned to the will of God. To a 
friend, who expressed his sorrow for the troubles 
in which he saw him involved, he humbly replied 
in this manner : " My dear friend, I ought not to 
repine at what my wise Creator hath allotted for 
me : but I ought to labour, as indeed I do daily, to 
submit to his will, and to possess my soul in pa- 
tience and peace." 

A short time before his death, this humble and 
truly good man, expressed himself as follows : 
" I have lived to see that this world is full of 
perturbations ; and I have been long preparing 
to leave it, and gatliering comfort for the awful 
hour of making up my account with God, which 
I now apprehend to be near. And though I liave, 

8 



86 RICHARD HOOKER. 

by his grace, loved him in my youth, and feared 
him in my age, and laboured to have a conscience 
void of offence towards him, and towards all men ; 
yet, if thou, Lord, shouldst be extreme to mark 
what I have done amiss, how shall I abide it? 
AVhere I have failed, Lord, show mercy to me ; 
for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgive 
ness of my unrighteousness, through his merits, 
who died to purchase pardon for penitent sinners. 
And since I owe thee a death. Lord, let it not be 
terrible, and then choose thy own time ; I submit 
to it. Let not mine, O Lord, but thy will be 
done V' 

At another time, he said : " God hath heard my 
daily petition : for I am at peace with all men, 
and he is at peace with me. From this blessed 
assurance, I feel that inward joy, which the world 
can neither give, nor take from me. My con- 
science l:eareth me this witness ; and this witness 
makes the thoughts of death joyful. I could wish 
to live to do the church more service ; but I can- 
not hope it ; for my days are past, as a shadow 
that returns not." 

Soon after he had uttered these expressions, his 
spirits failed him; and a short conflict put a period 
to his life, in the 47th year of his age. 



CHAPTER III. 

Sir Philip Sidney Sir Christopher Hation Lord 

Bacon Sir Henry Wotton Peter Du Moulin 

Dr. Donne Philip III., King of Spain Catharine 

Bretterg Oxenstiern, Chancellor of Sweden 

Hugo Grotius John Selden Cardinal Richelieu 

Lord Harrington Salmasius. 



SECTION I. 
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 

Sir Philip Sidney was born in Kent, in the 
year 1554. He possessed shining talents; was 
well educated ; and at the early age of twenty 
one, was sent by Queen Elizabeth, as her ambas- 
sador to the emperor of Germany. He is 
described by the writers of that age, as the 
finest model of an accomplished gentleman that 
could be formed, even in imagination. An ami- 
able disposition, elegant erudition, and polite con- 
versation, rendered him the ornament and delight 
of the English court. Lord Brooke so highly 
valued his friendship, that he directed to be inserted 
as part of his epitaph, " Here lies Sir Philip Sid- 
ney's friend." His fame was so widely spread, 
that if he had chosen it, he might have obtained 
the crown of Poland. 



88 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 

But the glory of this Marcellus of the English 
nation, v/as of short duration. He was wounded 
at the battle of Zutphen, and carried to Arnheim, 
where, after languishing about three weeks, he 
died, in the 32d year of his age. 

This accomplished person, at the solemn period 
of approaching death, when a just estimate of 
things is formed, and when the mind looks round 
for support and consolation, perceived that the 
greatest worldly honours are only splendid vani- 
ties, and have but a momentary duration. At this 
period, he was so dissatisfied with his " Arcadia," 
a romantic work, ill agreeing with his present 
serious views of things, that it is said, he desired it 
might never be published. 

After he had received the fatal wound, and 
was brought into a tent, he piously raised his 
eyes towards heaven, and acknowledged the hand 
of God in this event. He confessed himself to 
be a sinner, and returned thanks to God, that " he 
had not struck him with death at once ; but 
gave him space to seek repentance and recon- 
cihation." 

Compared with his present view? of religion, 
his former virtues seemed to be nothinor. When 
it was observed to him, that good men, in the 
time of great affliction, found comfort and sup- 



SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 89 

port, in the recollection of those parts of their 
lives, in which they had glorified God ; he humbly 
replied : " It is not so with me. I have no comfort 
that way. All things in my former life have been 



On being asked, whether he did not desire 
life, merely to have it in his power to glorify 
God, he answered : " I have vowed my life unto 
God ; and if he cut me off, and suffer me to live 
no longer, I shall glorify him, and give up myself 
to his service." 

The nearer death approached, the more his con- 
solation and hopes increased. A short time before 
his dissolution, he lifted up his eyes and hands, and 
uttered these words ; " I would not change my 
joy for the empire of the world." 

His advice and observations, on taking the last 
leave of his deeply afflicted brother, are worthy 
of remembrance. They appear to have been 
expressed with great seriousness and composure. 
" Love my memory ; cherish my friends. Their 
fidelity to me may assure you that they are 
honest. But, above all, govern your wills and 
affections, by the will and word of your Creator. 
In me, behold the end of the world, and all its 
vanities." 

8* 



SECTION !!• 

SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON. 

Sir Christopher Hatton possessed great 
abilities, highly cultivated by study and business. 
He was remarkable for his eloquence and powers 
of persuasion. Queen Elizabeth, by whom he 
was greatly esteemed and favoured, made him 
lord high chancellor of England. And it was re- 
markable, that though he had never followed the 
profession of the law, his knowledge of it was so 
profound, that none of his decisions, as chan- 
cellor, were ever found deficient either in equity or 
judgment. 

This learned man had a high veneration for the 
Holy Scriptures; and, a short time before his 
death, particularly recommended to his relations, 
to search them seriously and diligently, in order 
to discover the will of God. ''It is," said he, 
"justly accounted a piece of excellent knowledge, 
to understand the law of the land, and the customs 
of our country ; but how much more excellent 
is it, to know the statutes of heaven, and the 
laws of eternity, the immutable and perpetual 



SIR CHRISTOPHER IIATTON 91 

laws of justice and righteousness ! to know the 
will and pleasure of the gi'eat Monarch and uni- 
versal King of the world ! * I have seen an end 
of all perfection ; but thy commandments, O God ' 
are exceedingly broad.' " 

The knowledge of the Divine will, is, indeed, 
the most important of all knowledge. Were we 
possessed of the most comprehensive understand- 
ing, the finest imagination, and the most capacious 
memory ; were we able to penetrate into all the 
secrets of nature, and sound the depths of every 
art and science ; and yet remain ignorant of, or 
disregard, Him who is the Author of our being 
and the Preserver of our lives, our Sovereign and 
our Judge ; we should, with a great deal of know- 
ledge^ mistake our highest interests, and be miser- 
able for ever. 



SECTION III. 



LORD BACON. 



Francis Bacon, viscount St. Albans, and lord 
high chancellor of England, was born in the year 
1561. The following account of this celebrated 
philosopher, is taken from Addison : — 

*' Sir Francis Bacon was a man who, for great- 
ness of genius, and compass of knowledge, did 
honour to his age and country ; I could almost 
say, to human nature itself. He possessed at 
once all those extraordinary talents, which were 
divided amongst the greatest authors of antiquity. 
He had the sound, distinct, comprehensive know- 
ledge of Aristotle, with all the beautiful lights, 
graces, and embellishments of Cicero. One does 
not know which to admire most in his writings, 
the strength of reason, the force of style, or the 
brightness of imagination. 

"I was infinitely pleased to find, among the 
works of this extraordinary man, a prayer of his 
own composing ; which, for its elevation of thought, 
and greatness of expression, seems rather the de- 
votion of an angel than of a man. His principal 
fault appears to have been, the excess of that virtue 



LORD BACON. 93 

which covers a muhitude of faults. This betrayed 
him to so great an indulgence towards his ser- 
vants, who made a corrupt use of it, that it strip- 
ped him of those riches and honours, which a long 
series of merits had heaped upon him. But in 
this prayer, at the same time that we find him 
prostrating himself before the great mercy-seat, 
and humbled under afflictions, which at that time 
lay heavy upon him, we see him supported by 
the sense of his integrity, his zeal, his devotion, 
and his love of mankind ; which gave him a much 
higher figure, in the minds of thinking men, than 
that greatness had done from which he was fallen. 
I shall write down the prayer itself, as it was 
found among his lordship's papers, written with 
his own hand : — 

"'Most gracious Lord God, my merciful Fa- 
ther ! my Creator, my Redeemer, my Comforter ! 
tliou soundest and searchest the depths and secrets 
of all hearts; thou acknowledgest the upright; 
thou judgest the hypocrite ; vanity and crooked 
ways cannot be hid from thee. 

" * Remember, O Lord, how thy servant has 
walked before thee ; remember what I have first 
sought, and what has been principal in my inten- 
tions. I have loved thy assemblies ; I have 
mourned for the divisions of thy cliurch ; I have 
delighted in the brightness of thy sanctuary ; 



94 LORD BACON. 

I have ever prayed unto thee, that the vine which 
thy right hand hath planted in this nation, might 
have the former and the latter rain ; and that it 
might stretch its branches to the seas, and to the 
floods. The state and bread of the poor and op- 
pressed have been precious in my eyes ; I have 
hated all cruelty and hardness of heart ; I have, 
though a despised weed, endeavoured to procure 
the good of all men. If any have been my ene- 
mies, J thought not of them, neither has the sun 
gone down upon my displeasure : but I have been 
as a dove, free from superfluity of maliciousness. 
Thy creatures have been my books, but thy Scrip- 
tures much more so. I have sought thee m the 
courts, the fields, and the gardens; but I have 
found thee in thy temples. 

" ^ Thousands have been my sins, and ten thou 
sands my transgressions : but thy sanctifications 
have remained with me ; and my heart, through 
thy grace, hath been an unquenched coal upon 
thine altar. 

" * O Lord, my strength ! I have, from my 
youth, met with thee in all my ways ; in thy fa- 
therly compassions, in thy merciful chastisements, 
and in thy most visible providences. As thy fa- 
vours have increased upon me, so have thy correc- 
tions; as my worldly blessings were exalted, so 
secret darts from thee have pierced me ; and when 



LORD BACON. 95 

I have ascended before men, I have descended in 
humihation before thee. And now, when I have 
been thinking most of place and honour, thy 
hand is heavy upon me, and has humbled me 
according to thy former loving-kindness, keeping 
me still in thy fatherly school, not as a bastard, 
but as a child. Just are thy judgments upon me 
for my sins, which are more in number than the 
sands of the sea, but which have no proportion to 
thy mercies. Besides my innumerable sins, I con- 
fess before thee, that I am debtor to thee for the 
gracious talent of thy gifts and graces ; which 
I have neither put into a napkin, nor placed, as I 
ought, with exchangers, where it might have made 
best profit ; but I have misspent it in things for 
which I was least fit : so I may truly say, my soul 
has been a stranger in the course of my pilgrim- 
age. Be merciful unto me, O Lord, for my Sav- 
iour's sake, and receive me into thy bosom, or 
guide me in thy ways.' " 



SECTION IV. 



SIR HENRY WOTTON. 



Sir Henry Wotton, an Englishman eminent 
for learning, and for knowledge in state affairs, 
was born in the year 1568. He w^as often em 
ployed by James the First, as ambassador to seve 
ral of the European states ; and discharged the 
trust reposed in him, with ability, and to the satis- 
faction of the king. He enjoyed the favour of this 
prince, and was much esteemed and admired by 
his contemporaries. But these honours did not 
afford him that satisfaction w^hich a wise man 
wishes to obtain. Amidst them all he could say : 
" It is the greatest happiness of my life, to be at 
leism-e to be, and to do good." 

Though he w^as much esteemed for his wisdom 
and regular deportment, yet near the end of his 
days, when he reflected seriously on his past life, 
he felt gi'eat concern ; and cften repeated these 
solemn expressions : " How much have I to repent 
of, and how little time to do it in !" 



SECTION V. 
PETER DU MOULIN. 

Peter du Moulin, an eminent Protestant 
minister in France, was born in the year 1568. 
Bayle calls him " one of the most celebrated min- 
isters, that the reformed church in France ever 
had to boast of." He was a man of such emi- 
nence, that James the first of England, employed 
him to attempt the accomplishment of a union 
between the reformed and Lutheran churches. 
This pious and excellent man v/as remarkable, 
through life, for a low opinion of himself, and an 
unwearied diligence in doing good. In his last 
sickness, his meekness and humility were par- 
ticularly prevalent. On hearing himself praised 
by one who thought he undervalued himself, he 
said, with indignation, " Away with this flattery, 
and pray to God to have mercy on me." " Lord," 
said lie, " I have deserved nothing but punish- 
ment. Thou hast heaped blessings upon me. 
Tliou hast honoured me with a holy calling : but I 
have not laboured according to the worth of it : 
I have mingled my own glory with thine. I 
have often neglected thy service, to seek my par- 
ticular interest. O, how much self-love ! what 
pcrvcrscncss has opposed the kingdom of tliy Son 

9 



98 PETER DU MOULIN. 

within me 1 How often have I grieved thy Holy 
Spirit, by idle thoughts and carnal affections ! and 
yet thou hast always shown thyself a gracious 
and merciful Father to me. Thou hast, indeed, 
sometimes chastened me with thy rod. Thou 
hast hid thy face from me for a moment : but 
thou hast remembered me in thy great compas 
sion. Lord, thou art faithful in thy promises. 
I am thy creature. Thou hast led me, and taught 
me, from my youth : forsake me not in this 
last period of my life." 

To a person who commended his service, in 
the cause of religion, he replied : " Ah, my friend, 
you know not how much you grieve me by such 
language. I have not done all the good I ought 
to have done ; and that little benefit which the 
church has reaped by my labours, is not from 
me, but from the grace of God which is in me ; 
as he frequently produces a good effect with a 
weak instrument. I am conscious that I have neg- 
lected my duty in many things, and offended my 
God ; but I have loved his holy truth, and I hope 
in his mercy." 

His sickness was an inflammation of the lungs, 
with an ague, which returned with double vio- 
lence every day at the same hour. Recovering 
from one of these fits, he said: "My God, how 
weary am I ! When shall I rest in thy bosom ^ 



PETER DU MOULIN, ^J 

When shall I drink of the river of thy pleasures ? 
I am unworthy of it, O my God ! but thou art 
glorified by doing good to the unworthy. It is 
not for them who are whole, but for those who 
are sick, that thy Son, the great physician, was 



A little before his death, waking about mid 
night, he said to a person who attended him, " I 
shall now soon be relieved. I am going to my Fa- 
ther and my God. He has heard me indeed. I 
go to him with confidence ; for he has arrayed me 
•Ariih the robe of his righteousness." — Soon aftei 

his, he gently expired ; and his countenance re- 

ained the expression of joy. 



SECTION VI. 

DR. DONNE. 

John Donne, an excellent English poet, was 
born in the year 1573. He was educated in his 
father's house till the eleventh year of his age, 
when he was sent to the university of Oxford; 
where it was observed of him, that " he was 
rather born wise, than made so by study." He 
travelled through Italy and Spain ; where he 
made many useful observations, and became well 
acquainted with the languages of those countries. 
After his return to England, he was solicited to 
go into orders, and to accept of a benefice ; but, 
at first, he prudently declined this oflTer for several 
reasons ; chiefly, " because some former irregu- 
larities of his life had been too notorious not to 
expose him to the censure of the world; and 
would, perhaps, bring dishonour upon the sacred 
function." He was, however, strenuously urged 
by King James the first, with whom he was a great 
favourite, to enter into the clerical ofl[ice : and 
after having maturely weighed the subject, and 
employed a considerable time in improving him- 
self by close study, he complied with the king's 
desire. He was ordained deacon and priest by 
the bishop of London; and soon after was ap 
pointed one of the king's chaplains. On the 



DR. DONNE. 101 

royal recommendation, he was presented with the 
degree of Doctor of Divinity, by the university 
©f Cambridge. 

Dr. Donne moved in a large circle of friends 
and acquaintance. He was much visited and 
caressed by the nobility, foreign ministers, and 
other persons of distinction. So generally was he 
beloved and esteemed, that, within the first year 
of entering into orders, he received offers of four- 
teen different benefices, from persons of rank. 
He preferred, however, settling in London ; and 
was made preacher of Lincoln's Inn. About this 
time, his domestic happiness suffered a severe 
shock, by the death of a beloved wife, who left 
him with a young family of seven children. Some 
years after this event, he had a dangerous illness ; 
which gave occasion to a work entitled, " Devo- 
tions upon Emergent Occasions ;" in which the 
fervour of his soul is strongly expressed. He re- 
covered from this indisposition ; and lived in 
good health, till he was seized with a fever in 
1630, after which he began to decline. Foresee- 
ing his end, he prepared for it with great resigna- 
tion. He was, however, much affected with the 
retrospect of life : and on his death-bed, upon ta- 
king a solemn leave of his friends, he made this 
striking declaration to them : " I repent of all my 
life, except that part of it, which I spent in com- 
munion with God, and in doing good." 
9* 



SECTION VII. 

PHILIP III. KING OF SPAIN. 

Philip the Third was born in the year 1577, 
and succeeded to the crown of Spain in the 21st 
year of his age. Of an inactive disposition, and 
averse to the trouble of governing a great king 
dom, he committed the whole administration of 
affairs to his minister and favourite : and this was 
the source of many calamities to his subjects, and 
of perplexity and distress to himself. 

When this king drew near the end of his days, 
he desired, as the last action of his life, to see, 
and to bless his children. He told the prince, his 
successor, he had sent for him, "that he might 
behold the vanity of crowns and tiaras, and learn 
to prepare for eternity." He kindly addressed all 
his children, gave them his blessing, and dismissed 
them with fervent prayers for their happiness, both 
here and hereafter. 

During the progress of his disorder, he ap- 
peared to be greatly disturbed in mind. He maae 
repeated confessions of his sins, and implorec Di- 
vine mercy. He said to those around him, thai ne 
had often been guilty of dissimulation in matters 



PHILIP III. KIxVG OF SPAIN. 103 

ot government. He deeply regretted his indolence, 
and blamed himself much for having devolved the 
cares of the state on his ministers. When he 
reflected, that he had not, in all things, made the 
will of God the rule of his government, he trem- 
bled, crying out, at different times : " Oh ! if it 
should please Heaven to prolong my life, how 
different from the past should be my future con- 
duct !" Though the retrospect of his life filled his 
mind with bitter regret, and painful apprehensions, 
he expressed a hope that, through the merits of the 
Redeemer, he should at last be received into the 
mansions of the blessed. The affecting expres- 
sions of his repentance and devotion, drew tears 
from the eyes of those who surrounded him. 
The priest who attended him, unwilling to bruise 
a broken reed, endeavoured to cheer and compose 
his troubled mind, by consolatory views of the 
Divine mercy, and the assurances which the Gos- 
pel affords, of assistance to the weak, and of par- 
don to the penitent. At length, the alternate 
tumult of hope and fear, which had so greatly agi- 
tated his mind, subsided into a gentle calm ; and 
he died peacefully, in the 43d year of his life, and 
the 23d of his reign. 



SECTION VIII. 

CATHARINE BRETTERG. 

Catharine Bretterg was born in Cheshire, 
about the year 1580, and was the daughter of 
John Bruen, Esq., of Bruen Stapleford. From 
a child, she was much employed in reading the 
Holy Scriptures, which she found of great use 
and comfort to her. She was moderate and sober 
in the enjoyment of the good things of this life ; 
and carefully avoided the vain pleasures and 
fashions, in which many greatly delight them- 
selves. The society of religious people was 
very comfortable and pleasant to her; and it 
appears that, from her childhood to the end of 
her days, she was concerned to live in the fear 
of God, and to walk before him with a perfect 
heart. 

This excellent woman, in the beginning of her 
last sickness, was permitted to labour under 
great exercise and conflict of spirit : but she 
was mercifully supported under this trial ; and 



CATHARINE BRBTTERG. 105 

the victory was, in due time, graciously given 
to her. 

Her dependance on the Fountain of Wisdom 
and Strength, for rehef from this trying state of 
mind J is evidenced by the follov^ing pious and 
fervent prayer : " O Lord God of my salvation, 
help my weakness ; plead thou my cause, O God 
of Truth, for in thee do I trust ! O blessed Saviour, 
perfect the work, I humbly beseech thee, which 
thou hast begun in me." 

At another time, after she had experienced 
deliverance from this conflict, she expressed her- 
self in the following manner : " Oh, my God, 
blessed be thy name for evermore, who hast 
shown me the path of life. Thou didst, O Lord, 
hide thy face from me for a little season, but 
with everlasting mercy thou hast had compas- 
sion on me. And now, blessed Lord, thy com- 
forting presence is come ; yea, Lord, thou hast 
had respect to thy handmaid, and art come with 
fulness of joy and abundance of consolation." 

When she was near her end, her strength and 
voice being very feeble, she lifted up her eyes, 
and with a sweet countenance, and still voice, 
said ; " My warfare is accomplished, and my 
iniquities are pardoned. Lord, whom have I in 



106 CATHARINE BRETTERG. 

heaven but thee ? And I have none on earth be- 
sides thee. My flesh faileth, and my heart also ; 
but God is the strength of my heart, and my por* 
tion for ever. He that preserveth Jacob, and de- 
fendeth Israel, is my God, and will guide me unto 
death. Direct me, Lord my God, and keep my 
soul in safety." 

Soon after she had expressed these words, she 
yielded up her soul in peace to her Creator. 



4 



SECTION IX. 



OXENSTIERN. 



OxENSTiERN, chanccllor of Sweden, was a man 
of great abilities, and uncorrupted integrity. On 
the accession of Christina to the crown of Swe- 
den, the regency, during her minority, devolved 
upon him and four others : but so great was their 
confidence in Oxenstiern, that he was invested 
with the chief management of affairs ; and be con- 
ducted himself with singular wisdom and upright- 
ness. In the great schemes which he formed for 
the interest of his country, he was very success- 
ful ; and was highly esteemed, not only by his 
countrymen, but by the most eminent persons in 
Europe. 

This great statesman spent a part of his time 
in retirement, from which he derived the highest 
advantage. In his retreat, he was visited by 
Whitelocke, ambassador from England to Queen 
Christina ; and in the conclusion of their dis- 
course, he made the following very interesting 
observations : — " I have seen much, and enjoyed 
much, of this world ; but I never knew how to live 
till now. I thank my good God, who has given 



108 OXENSTIERN. 

me time to know him, and to know myself. All 
the comfort I have, and which is more than the 
whole world can give, is, feeling the good spirit of 
God in my heart, and reading in this good book, 
(holding up the Bible,) that came from it." 

This enlightened and experienced man then 
addressed the ambassador, as follows : " You are 
now in the prime of your age and vigour, and in 
great favour and business : but all this will leave 
you, and you will one day better understand and 
relish what I say. You will then find, that there 
is more wisdom, truth, comfort, and pleasure, in 
retiring, and in turning your heart from the world, 
to the good Spirit of God, and in reading the 
Bible, than in all the courts, and favours of 
princes." 

The preceding account is given by William 
Penn, who says he had it, more than once, from 
the ambassador himself. The sentiments expres- 
sed by Oxenstlern are particularlj^- interesting, 
if we reflect, that they came from one of the 
greatest and wisest men of the age, when his 
mind and body were sound and vigorous, and 
when he was best able to judge of human life, 
and of the happiness which is to be derived from 
religion. 



SECTION X. 
HUGO GROTIUS. 

Hugo Grotius was born in Holland, in the 
year 1583. He possessed the most happy dispo- 
sition, a profound genius, a soUd judgment, and 
a wonderful memory. These extraordinary na- 
tural endowments had all the advantages that 
education could give them ; and he was so happy 
as to find, in his own father, a pious and an able 
instructer, who formed his mind and his morals. 
Before he was fifteen, he maintained public theses 
in mathematics, philosophy, and law, with the 
highest applause : and he ventured to form plans 
that required very great learning, but which he 
executed in so finished a manner, that the republic 
of letters were struck with astonishment. 

He strenuously engaged in the controversies 
respecting rehgious opinions, which, at that time, 
occupied the learned men of the United States : 
and the part which he took in those disputes, in- 
volved him in great trouble and perplexity. He 
afterwards became the queen of Sweden's ambas- 
sador at Paris. This dignity, however, was not 
agreeable to a man of his turn of mind. His 

10 



110 HVGO GROTIUS. 

sentiments respecting it. are contained in a letter 
which he wrote to his father frona Paris. " I am," 
says he, *' really quite tired out with honours. 
A private and a quiet life alone has charms for 
me ; and I should be \ery happy, if I were in a 
situation, in which I could employ myself upon 
works of piety, and works that might be useful to 
posterity." 

He had the highest respect for religion and 
virtue, in w^hatever condition of life they were 
found : and how much he preferred them to all 
that the world could bestow, appears from the 
following declaration : " I would give all my 
learning and honour, for the plain integrity of 
John Urick, a poor man of great piety, who spent 
eight hours of his time in prayer, eight in labour, 
and but eight in micals, sleep, and other neces- 
saries." 

To one who admired his great industr}% he re- 
turned an answer, to this effect : " Ah ! I have 
consumed much of my life, in laboriously doing 
nothing." And to another who inquked of him, 
what course of life he would advise him to take, 
he solemnly answered, " Be serious." 

In his last sickness, which w^as of short diu'ation, 
he appears to have been tranquil, and resigned to 
the will of God. He expressed his faith in Jesus 




HUGO GROTIUS. Ill 

Christ, and declared that his hope rested upon 
him. To one who mentioned to him the pubhcan 
spoken of in the gospel, he humbly replied, " I 
am that publican ;" and soon after expired. 

Grotius, notwithstanding the embassies and 
other public business in which he was employed, 
composed a great number of excellent and much 
admired works ; the principal of which are, " A 
Treatise on the Rights of Peace and War ;" " A 
Treatise on the Truth of the Christian Religion ;" 
" Commentaries on the Holy Scriptures ;" and 
" The History and Annals of Holland." He ap- 
pears to have laboured much for the benefit of his 
fellow^-crealures ; and we trust that his expressions 
of regret, respecting the employment of his time, 
proceeded from the humble state of his mind, and 
not from the consciousness of having neglected 
any important duties of life. 

When great talents and learning are, from 
pure motives, and in true humility, consecrated 
to the service of ti'uth and religion, they become 
acceptable offerings to our Divine Benefactor, and 
often eminently promote the good of mankind 
But when we misapply these qualifications, suffer 
llicm to nourish pride and vanity, or attribute to 
them an efficacy in producing virtue and happi- 
ness that does not necessarily belong to them , 
they occasion an unhappy waste of our time, and 



112 HUGO GROTIUS. 

lay the foundation for bitter regret in the winding 
up of life. 

The worth and importance of those advan- 
tages are lamentably overrated, if our estimation 
of them is so high, and our pursuit so ardent, 
as to dispose us to undervalue, or disregard, that 
most solemn injunction of our Lord : " Seek ye, 
first," (early, and in preference to all other things,) 
" the kingdom of God, and his righteousness :" 
remembering that this is '*the one thing needful." 

Whilst the mind is occupied with the variety 
and intricacy of speculation and literary engage- 
ments, and the heart elated w^ith the flattering 
distinctions which they produce, we may not suf 
ficiently perceive the importance of this Divine 
injunction : but when the close of our day ap- 
proaches, and the retrospect of life is made ; 
when the ardour of pursuit has abated, and the 
delusions of vanity and passion are at an end ; 
we shall form a true estimate of the worth of all 
sublunary attainments and possessions. We shall 
then, if not before, perceive that, to have our 
conversation in the world with simplicity and 
uprightness : to receive the truths of the gospel 
with meekness and cordiality ; to be pure and 
humble in heart ; to love our neighbours as our- 
selves, and God above all things ; and, by these 



HUGO GROTIUS. 113 

means, to secure an incorruptible and immortal 
inheritance ; are attainments of infinitely greater 
moment, than all the accomplishments of mind 
and body, and all the possessions and honours, 
that this world can bestow. 

As it is, therefore, our highest wisdom, may it 
also be oiir greatest concern, seasonably to anti- 
cipate these reflections ; and so to temper and 
regulate all our studies, and all the engagements 
of this life, that they may coincide with and pro- 
mote the great end of our being ! 

10* 



SECTION XI. 
JOHN SELDEN. 

John Selden, a native of Sussex, was bom in 
the year 1584. He was profoundly learned, and 
skilled in the Hebrew and oriental languages, 
beyond any man of his time. Grotius styles him 
the glory of the English nation. His mind also 
was as great as his learning. He was hospitable, 
gener.ous, and charitable ; he took great delight 
in doing good, and in communicating his know- 
ledge : above all, he was a sincere and eminent 
Christian. 

The earl of Clarendon, who was the intimate 
friend of Selden, speaks of him thus : " Mr. 
Selden was a person, whom no character can 
flatter, or transmit in any expressions equal to 
his merit and virtue. He was of such stupen 
dous learning, in all kinds and in all languages, 
that a man would have thought he had been en- 
tirely conversant among books, and had never 
spent an hour but in reading or writing : yet his 
humanity, courtesy, and affability, were such, 
that he would have been thought to have been 
bred in the best courts. His good nature, 
charity, and delight in doing good, and in com- 
municating all he knew, exceeded that breeding. 



JOHN SELDEN. 115 

In his conversation, lie was the most clear dis- 
courser, and had the best faculty in making hard 
things easy, and present to the understanding, of 
any man that hath been known." 

This eminent scholar and Christian, when he 
was near the end of his days, declared, in a con- 
ference with Archbishop Usher, that, " though he 
had been very laborious in his literary inquiries, 
and had possessed himself of a great number of 
valuable books and manuscripts, upon all ancient 
subjects ; yet he could rest the happiness of his 
soul on none of them, except the Holy Scrip- 
tures. He said that the following passage, in a 
very particular manner, affected his mind : " The 
grace of God, w^hich bringeth salvation, hath ap- 
peared unto all men ; teaching us, that denying 
ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live 
soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present 
world ; looking for that blessed hope and glorious 
appearing of the great God, and our Saviour Jesus 
Christ ; who gave himself for us, that he might 
redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto him- 
self a peculiar people, zealous of good w^orks." 
This is, indeed, a most important and interesting 
declaration. It sets forth the universal love of 
God ; the various duties of men, with the means 
of performing them ; the redemption from sin 
through Jesus Christ ; and a glorious reward to tlie 
faithful hereafter. 



SECTION XII. 
CARDINAL RICHELIEU. 

Richelieu, an eminent cardinal and minister 
of state in France, was born of a noble family at 
the castle of Richelieu, in the year 1585. Being 
a man of prodigious capacity, and of a restless 
and insatiable ambition, he formed vast designs, 
which made his life a series of agitations and per- 
plexities. He found himself frequently under the 
necessity of opposing the grandees of the king- 
dom, the royal family, the whole house of Austria, 
and even Louis XIIL himself. Amidst his great- 
est and most arduous concerns, he did not neglect 
to cultivate literature, and to show himself a pa- 
tron of men of letters. He manifested a particular 
regard for persons of the religious orders ; and 
advanced those who were most remarkable for 
their abilities and virtues. He made many friends, 
and many enemies ; but his consummate policy 
enabled him to triumph over all the machinations 
of his opponents. 

When this great statesman approached the con- 
clusion of his time, he became very serious ; and 
acknowledged to Peter du Moulin, the celebrated 



CARDINAL RICHELIEU. 117 

French protestant, that he had often been hurried 
into measures which his conscience disapproved. 
" That he had been urged into many irregularities, 
by what is called, state policy ; that as he could 
not tell how to satisfy his conscience for these de- 
viations from rectitude, he had many temptations 
to disbeheve the existence of a God, a future state, 
and the immortality of the soul ; and, by these 
means, to quiet the upbraidings of his mind. But 
in vain. So strong was the idea of God in his 
soul ; so clear the impression of him upon the 
frame of the world ; so unanimous the consent of 
mankind ; and so powerful the convictions of his 
own conscience ; that he could not avoid feeling 
the necessity of admitting a Supreme Being, and 
a future state : and he wished to live as one that 
must die ; and to die, as one that must live for 
ever.'* 

The serious state of his mind increased, as he 
drew near his last hour. A person who came to 
see him, inquired, " why he was so sad :" the car- 
dinal replied : " The soul is a serious thing : it 
must either be sad here for a moment, or be sad 
for ever." 

He died in 1642, amidst storms and perils, be- 
fore he had completed his designs ; leaving behind 
him a name, splendid indeed, but, by no means, 
dear and venerable. 



SECTION XIII. 
LORD HARRINGTON. 

John, Lord Harrington, was the son of that 
Lord Harrington to whom King James the first 
committed the education of his eldest daughter, 
the princess EKzabeth. 

He possessed excellent natural endowments, 
and a considerable stock of useful learning ; but 
the great concern of his mind was, to become 
learned in the school of Christ, and to provide foi 
an immortal inheritance. He manifested a princi- 
ple of real charity in his heart, by his love to all 
who were truly religious. And so great was his 
compassion for his fellow-creatures in necessity, 
that he gave the tenth part of his yearly income 
to charitable uses. 

At the beginning of his last sickness, he strongly 
apprehended that he should not recover ; and 
therefore calmly prepared for death. He declared 
his faith in Christ, and his undoubted hope of 
salvation by him : and said, with much cheerful 
ness, " I fear not death, in what shape soever it 
may assail me." 



LORD HARRINGTON. 119 

Many excellent things were expressed by him, 
during his illness. He greatly desired to depart 
this lif3, that he might be at home with his Lord 
and Saviour. About two hours before his death, 
he declared, that " he still felt the comfort and 
joys of assured salvation, by Christ Jesus." And 
when the time of his departure was come, he 
said, " 0, that joy ! O, my God ! when shall I be 
with thee ?" And with the like words, expressive 
of a tender, heavenly frame of mind, he peacefully 
expired, in the twenty-third year of his age. 



^1 



SECTION XIV. 



SALMASIUS. 



Salmasius, of an ancient and noble family in 
France, was born in the year 1596. He was a 
man of very extraordinary abilities, and profound 
erudition. He was knowing in almost every 
thing; in school divinity, in law, in philosophy, 
in criticism ; and he was so consummate a linguist, 
that there was scarcely a language in which he 
had not attained a considerable proficiency. He 
was perfect in Greek and Latin: he understood 
the Hebrew, Arabic, Persic> Egyptian, Chinese, 
&c>, and he was w^ell acquainted with all the 
European languages. 

His works are very numerous, and on various 
subjects. They gained him as much fame as 
strong powers and vast erudition can procure. 
His name was sounded throughout Europe ; and 
he had great offers from foreign princes, and uni- 
versities. The Venetians thought his residence 
among them would be such an honour, that they 
offered him a prodigious stipend : the university 
of Oxford made some attempts to get him into 
England; and the pope invited him to settle at 
Rome. Cardinal Richelieu used all possible 



SALMASIUS. 121 

means to detain him in France, even desiring him 
to make his own terms ; and Christina, queen of 
Sweden, showed him extraordinary marks of es- 
teem and regard. 

When this celebrated man arrived at the even- 
ing of hfe, and found leisure to reflect seriously 
on the great end of his being, he acknowledged 
that he had too much, and too earnestly, engaged 
in literary pursuits ; and had greatly overlooked 
those objects in which true and solid happiness 
consists. " Oh !" said he, " I have lost an im- 
mense portion of time ; time, that most precious 
thing in the world ! Had I but one year more, it 
should be spent in studying David's psalms, and 
Paul's epistles." " Oh ! sirs," said he to ihose 
about him, " mind the world less, and God more. 
* The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom ; and to 
depart from evil, that is understanding.' " 



CHAPTER IV. 

Cardinal Mazariae — Bulstrode Whitelocke — Anna Maria 
Schurman — Sir Matthew Hale — Du Renti — Princess 
Elizabeth— William Mompesson — Admiral Penn. 



SECTION. I. 



CARDINAL MAZARINE. 



Julius Mazarine, a famous cardinal and prime 
minister of France, was born in the kingdom of 
Naples, in the j'Car 1602. The greatness of his 
abilities was conspicuous, even in his early years ; 
and he had the advantage of being instructed by 
a very able tutor. He studied the interests of the 
various states in Italy, and of the kingdoms of 
France and Spain ; and became profoundly skilled 
in politics. It was through the interest of Cardi- 
nal Richelieu, that he was introduced into the 
French cabinet. That cardinal made him one of 
the executors of his will ; and during the minority 
of Louis XIV. he had the charge of public affairs. 
His high station and great abilities, excited the 
envy of the nobility of France ; and this occa 
sioned a civil war that continued several years. 
Mazarine was, at last, forced to retire ; a price 



CARDINAL MAZARINE. 123 

was set on his head; and even his fine Hbrary 
was sold. But this disgrace did not long con- 
tinue. Mazarine returned to the court with more 
lionour than he had ever enjoyed ; and conducted 
the affairs of the kingdom with so much ability 
and success, that he obtained the French king's 
most unreserved confidence. He possesseJ,- in 
an eminent degree, the power of discovering the 
dispositions and views of men; and of assuming 
a character adapted to circumstances. 

He was a man of great ambition, and pursued 
with ardour the chase of worldly honours. But, 
a short time before his death, he perceived the 
vanity of his pursuit, and lamented the misap^ 
plication of his time and talents. He was greatly 
affected with the prospect of his dissolution, and 
the uncertainty of his future condition. This 
made him cry out : " Oh, my poor soul ! what will 
become of thee ? Whither wilt thou go ?" 

To the queen dowager of France, who came to 
visit him in his illness, and who had been his 
friend at court, he expressed himself in these 
terms : " Madam, your favours have undone me. 
Were I to live again, I would be a capuchin, 
rather tiian a courtier." 



SECTION II. 

BULSTRODE WHITELOCKE. 

BuLSTRODE Whitelocke was descended from 
a good family in Berkshire, and born in the year 
1605. He possessed strong mental powers, which 
were highly improved by education, study, and 
business. He was advanced to several stations of 
the greatest trust and importance, both at home 
and abroad, and acquitted himself in them all to 
the satisfaction of his employers. Whilst he was 
ambassador at the court of Sweden, he was par- 
ticularly honoured by Queen Christina. 

In the latter part of his life, he withdrew from 
public affairs, and resided in the country till his 
death. In his retirement, he was visited by a 
friend, to whom, after making many serious ob 
servations, he expressed himself in the following 
manner: "I have ever thought there has been 
one true religion in the world : and that is the 
work of the Spirit of God in the hearts and souls 
of men. There have been, indeed, many dis- 
pensations of God, suited to his own wise ends, 
and adapted to the low and uncertain state of 
man in the world. But the old world had the Spirit 



BULSTRODE WIIITELOCKE. 125 

of God, for it strove with them ; and the new 
world has had the Spirit of God, both Jew and 
Gentile ; and it strives with all ; and they who have 
been led by it, have been the good people in every 
dispensation of God to mankind. I myself must 
say, that I have felt it from a child convincing me 
of my evil and vanity. It has often given me a 
true measure of this poor world, and some taste of 
Divine things ; and it is my grief that I did not ear- 
lier apply my soul to it. I can sa}^, that, since 
my retirement from the greatness and hurries of 
the world, I have felt something of the w^ork and 
comfort of it ; and I am persuaded that it is both 
ready and able to instruct, and lead, and preserve, 
those who will humbly and sincerely regard it. 
So that my religion is, the good Spirit of God in 
my heart ; I mean, what that has wrought in me, 

and for me." 

11* 



SECTION III. 
ANNA MARIA SCHURMAN. 

Anna Maria Schurman, of a noble protestant 
family in Germany, was born at Cologne, in the 
year 1607. The powers of her mind were very 
gi'eat, and she employed them in the acquisition 
of a large stock of literatm-e. She was skilled in 
many languages ; and the Latin, Greek, and 
Hebrew, were so familiar to her, that she not 
only \\TOte, but spoke them fluently, to the sur 
prise of the most learned men. She had also 
a competent knowledge of the liberal arts and 
sciences ; and was held in high reputation by 
several persons of the greatest learning in her 
time. 

In the latter part of her life, the religious tem- 
per of her mind increasing, she set little value on 
all the honour she had acquired, by her extraor- 
dinary accomplishments ; and became zealously 
concerned to obtain the favour of God, as the 
richest treasure, and the highest of all enjoy- 
ments. After this change of views and senti- 
ments, she wrote an account of her life in Latin ; 
in which she mentions some remarkable circum- 



ANNA MARIA SCHURMAN. 127 

Stances concerning herself, and several devout 
persons with whom she was connected. 



During her last illness, she declared her full 
satisfaction in the religious choice she had made. 
After suffering much from the disorder, she ex- 
pressed herself in the following manner : " I have 
proceeded one step further towards eternity, and 
if the Lord shall please to increase my pains, it 
will be no cause of sorrow : the will of my God 
IS all to me ; I follow him. How good is it to be 
in the hands of God! But it will be still better for 
me, when I shall enjoy more full communion with 
him, among the children of God, in the abodes 
of the blessed. I have nothing more to desire in 
this world." 

In the last night of her life, she said to one 
who watched with her : " I am almost continually 
impressed with a sentiment of this nature : ' A 
Christian must suffer.' This sentiment comforts 
me in my pains ; and supports me that I faint 
not. — how good it is to remain in silence and 
patience before God ! My most beneficent Father 
has not dealt with me, as with his servant Job, 
whose friends were with him seven days in silence, 
and then addressed him with bitter words- But 
how sweet and comfortable are the impressions 
which I feci r 



SECTION IV. 
SIR MATTHEW HALE. 

Sir Matthew Hale, lord chief justice of 
England, was born in Gloucestershire, in the 3'eai 
1609. Before he was six years old, he lost both 
his parents : but by the care of a judicious guard- 
ian, great attention was paid to his education. 
When he had completed his studies at Oxford, he 
quitted the universit}^, with an intention of going 
into the army ; but, on the persuasion of sergeant 
Glanvill, he entered at Lincoln's Inn ; and, with 
great vigour, and almost unexampled application, 
bent his mind to the studies of his profession. 

In early life, he was fond of company, and fell 
into many levities and extravagances. But this 
propensity and conduct were corrected by a cir- 
cumstance, that made a considerable impression 
on his mind, during the rest of his life. Being 
one day in company with other young men, one 
of the party, through excess of wine, fell down, 
apparently dead at their feet. Young Hale was 
so affected on this occasion, that he immediately 



SIR MATTHEW HALE. 129 

retired to another room; and, shutting the door, 
fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly to God, 
that his friend might be restored to life, and that 
he himself might be pardoned for having given 
countenance to so much excess. At the same 
time, he made a solemn vow, that he would never 
again keep company in that manner, nor " drink 
a health," while he lived. His friend recovered, 
and Hale religiously observed his vow. — After this 
event, there was an entire change in his disposi- 
tion : he forsook all dissipated company, and was 
careful to divide his time between the duties of 
religion, and the studies of his profession. He 
became remarkable for a grave and exemplary 
deportment, great moderation of temper, and a 
religious tenderness of spirit ; and these virtues 
appear to have accompanied him through the whole 
of his life. 

The following extract from a diary which he 
regularly kept, shows the piety of his mind, and 
how solicitous he was to make the best use of his 
time. 

MORNING. 

1. To lift up the heart to God in thankfulness 
for renewing my hfe. 

2. To renew my covenant with God in ChriiJt. 
First, by renewed acts of faith receiving Christ, 



130 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 

and rejoicing in the height of that relation : sec- 
ondly, by resolving to be one of his people, and 
'^oing him allegiance. 

S. Adoration and prayer. 

DAY EMPLOYMENT. 

There must be an employment of two kinds. 

1. Our ordinary calling, to serve God in it. It 
is a service to Christ, though ever so mean. Here 
observe faithfulness, diligence, cheerfulness. Not 
to overcharge myself with more business than I 
can bear. 

2. Our spiritual employments. Mingle some- 
what of God's immediate service in the day. 

IF ALONE. 

1. Beware of wandering, vain, sensual thoughts : 
fly from thyself rather than entertain these. 

2. Let thy solitary thoughts be profitable. 
View the evidences of thy salvation, the state 
of thy soul, the coming of Christ, and thy own 
mortality : this will make thee humble and 
watchful. 



Sm MATTHEW HALE. 131 



COMPANY. 

Do good to them. Use God's name reverently. 
Beware of leaving an ill impression, or ill example. 
Receive good from them, if they are more know- 



EVENING. 

Cast up the accounts of the day. If there was 
aught amiss, beg pardon ; resolve to be more vigi- 
lant. If thou hast done well, bless the mercy and 
grace of God, which have supported thee. 

Thus did this excellent man occupy himself in 
the service of God, at the same time that he was 
making great progress in the study of the sciences, 
and particularly in that of the law, in which he 
became a greater proficient than any of his con- 
temporaries. 

In the duties of his office as a judge, he con 
ducted himself with the greatest integrity. The 
motives which influenced him to the faithful dis- 
charge of these duties, were founded on the only 
firm basis — that of religion. This will appear 
by an extract from one of his papers, entitled, 
"Things to be had in continual remembrance.'* 



132 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 

Among a numerous list of these, are the follow 
ing. " That, in the administration of justice, I 
am intrusted for God, the king, and the country : 
and therefore that it be done uprightly, delibe- 
rately, resolutely. — That I rest not upon my own 
direction and strength ; but implore and rest 
upon the direction and strength of God. — That, 
in the execution of justice, I carefully lay aside 
my own passions, and give not way to them, 
however provoked. — That I be not biased with 
compassion to the poor, or favour to the rich, in 
point of justice. — That popular or court applause, 
or dislike, have no influence in any thing I do in 
the distribution of justice. That I be not solicit- 
ous about what men think or say, so long as I 
keep myself exactly according to the rules of 
justice." 

The writings of Sir Matthew Hale, on religious 
subjects, particularly his " Contemplations Moral 
and Divine," manifest a truly humble frame of 
mind ; and contain a seriousness and fervency, 
well adapted to excite kindred emotions in the 
breast of the reader. We shall select a few of 
these, as testimonies which this great and good 
man bore to the power and efficacy of reUgion, 
as the guide, support, and comfort of our lives. 

" True rehgion," says he, ** teaches the soul 
a high veneration for Almighty God; a sincere 



SIR MATTHEW HALE. 133 

and upright walking, as in the presence of the in 
visible, all-seeing God. It makes a man truly love, 
honour, and obey him, and therefore careful to 
know what his will is. It renders the heart highly 
thankful to him, as his Creator, Redeemer, and 
Benefactor. It makes a man entirely depend on 
him, seek him for guidance, direction, and pro- 
tection, and submit to his will with patience and 
resignation of soul. It gives the law, not only to 
his words and actions, but to his very thoughts 
and purposes ; so that he dares not entertain any 
which are unbecoming the presence of that God, 
by whom all our thoughts are legible. It crushes 
all pride and haughtiness, both in a man's heart 
and carriage, and gives him an humble state of mind 
before God and men. It regulates the passions, 
and brings them into due moderation. It gives a 
man a right estimate of this present world, and 
sets his heart and hopes above it ; so that he never 
loves it more than it deserves. It makes the 
wealth, and the glory of this world, high places, and 
great preferments, but of little consequence to 
him ; so that he is neither covetous, nor ambitious, 
nor over-solicitous, concerning the advantages of 
them. It makes him value the love of God and 
the peace of his own conscience, above all the 
wealth and honour in the world, and to be very 
diligent in preserving them. He performs all his 
duties to God with sincerity and constancy: and, 
whilst he lives on earth, his conversation, his 

12 



134 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 

hope, his treasures, are m heaven ; and he endeav 
ours to walk suitably to such a hope." 

His sentiments, respecting the inward direction 
and assistance of the Spirit of God to the soul, and 
his Holy Presence there, are deeply interesting. 

" They who truly fear God^ have a secret 
guidance from a higher wisdom than what is 
barely human, namely, the Spirit of truth and 
wisdom ; which does really, though secretly, pre- 
vent and direct them. Any man that sincerely 
and truly fears Almighty God, and calls and relies 
upon him for his direction, has it as really as a 
son has the counsel and direction of his father • 
and though the voice is not audible, yet it is 
equally as real, as if a man heard a voice saying, 
' This is the way, walk in it.' 

'* Though this secret direction of Almighty God 
is principally seen in matters relating to the good 
of the soul ; yet, in the great and momentous 
concerns of this life, a good man, fearing God and 
begging his direction, will very often, if not at all 
times, find it. I can call my own experience to 
witness, that, even in the external actions, occur- 
rences, and incidents, of my whole life, I have 
never been disappointed of the best direction, 
when I have, in humility, and a sense of my own 
deficiency, sincerely implored it. 



SIR MATTHEW HALE. 135 

" God sees the most secret chambers of our 
hearts. All the guests that are there, even our 
most intimate thoughts and purposes, and much 
more our most retired actions, are as legible to 
him, as if they were graved in brass. 

"Are our hearts solicited by any object; by 
ourselves or by the persuasions of others, or by 
the suggestions of Satan; to impure speculations 
or sinful resolutions, to proud or arrogant con- 
ceptions of ourselves, to revengeful, uncharitable, 
or forbidden desires, to vain and unprofitable 
imaginations ; let us reflect that these thoughts 
(which even natural modesty or prudence, would 
shame us to express before mortal man) are all 
naked and manifest before the great and holy 
God. And dare we entertain such guests where 
our Creator is present ? in that place in which the 
Lord of Heaven is pleased, most justly and most 
mercifully to claim as his own ? Consider — it is 
our Judge that sees us : it is the great Creator, 
before whom the angels of heaven veil their faces, 
not being able to behold his glory : and, which is 
more than all this to an ingenuous nature, it is 
He to whom we owe ourselves and all that we are. 
He to whom we have given up our names, and 
who has purchased our souls from destruction by 
the blood of his Son. 

" Again : Is the God of heaven an eyewitness of 



136 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 

our conduct, when either by ourselves, or by 
others, we are sohcited to evil ?-let us take cour 
age to resist this temptation, because our Creator 
sees us ; because our Lord stands by, to observe, 
and to reward us, in our opposition. To be able to 
hear, in our own consciences, the approving voice 
of the Lord of heaven beholding us, and saying : 
* Well done, good and faithful servant,' would be 
enough to outweigh all our obedience, though it 
were possible to separate it from what follows : — 
' Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' " 

The following reflections on the vicissitudes of 
hurnan affairs, and on the benefits to be derived 
from duly coi sidering them, are highly important 
and instructive : — 

" Li the course of my life, I have been in as 
many stations and places as m.ost men. I have 
experienced almost continual motion ; and al- 
though, of all earthly things, I have most desired 
rest, and a fixed private station, yet the various 
changes that I have seen and found, the public 
employments that, without my seeking, and 
against my inclination, have been put upon me, 
and many other interventions, as well private 
as public, have made it literally my experience, 
that I have here no continuing city. When 
I had designed for myself a settled mansion in 
one place, and had fitted it to my convenience 



SIR MATTHEW HALE. 137 

and repose, I have been presently constrained, 
by my necessary employments, to leave it, and 
repair to another : and when again I thought 
to find repose there, and had suited it to my con- 
venience, some other necessary occurrences have 
diverted me from it. And thus, my dwellings 
have been like so many inns to a traveller, of 
longer continuance, indeed, but of almost equal 
instability. 

" This unsettledness of station, though trouble- 
some, has given me a good and practical moral ; 
namely, that I must not expect my rest in this 
lower world ; but must consider it as the place 
of my journey and pilgrimage, and look further 
for true repose and happiness. And truly, w^hen 
I reflect, that it has been the wisdom of Almighty 
God, to exercise, with this kind of discipline, 
those worthies whom he has exhibited as patterns 
to the rest of mankind, I have no reason to com- 
plain of il, as a difficulty or an inconvenience ; but 
to be thankful to him. for it, as an instruction and 
document, to put m.e in remembrance of a better 
home, and to incite me to make a due provision 
for it; even that everlasting rest which he has 
provided for them that love him : it is his gracious 
design, by pouring me thus from vessel to vessel, 
to keep me from fixing myself too much upon this 
world below. 

12* 



138 SIR MATTHEW HALE. 

" But the truth is, did we consider this hfe as 
becomes us, even as wise men, we might easily 
find, without the help of such discipline, that the 
world below, neither was intended for, nor indeed 
can be, a place of rest : but that it is only a labo- 
ratory to fit and prepare the souls of the children 
of men, for a better and more abiding state ; a 
school, to exercise and train us up in habits of 
patience and obedience, till we are fitted for an 
other station ; a little narrow nursery, wherein we 
may be dressed and pruned, till we are fit to be 
transplanted into paradise. 

" The shortness of our lives, and the continual 
troubles, sicknesses, and calamities, that attend 
them ; and the instances of mortahty of all ages, 
sexes, and conditions of mankind, are sufficient 
to convince reasonable men, who have the seri- 
ousness and patience to consider and observe, 
that we have no abiding city here. And on the 
other side, if we will but give ourselves leisure to 
consider the great wisdom of Almighty God, who 
adapts every thing in the world to suitable ends ; 
the excellence of the soul and mind of man ; the 
great advances and improvements his nature is 
capable of; the admirable means which the mer- 
ciful and wise God has afforded mankind, by his 
works of nature and providence, by his word and 
instructions, to qualify them for a nobler life than 
this world can yield; we shall readily confess, 



SIR MATTHEW HALE. 139 

that there is another state, another city to come, 
which it becomes every good, and wise, and con- 
siderate man, to look after and fit himself for. 
And yet, if we regard the generality of mankind 
.with due consideration, they will appear to be a 
company of distempered people. The greater part 
of them make it their whole business to provide 
for rest and happiness in this world ; they make 
the acquisition of wealth and honour, and the pre- 
ferments and pleasures of life, their great, if not 
their only business and happiness ; and, which is 
yet a higher degree of phrensy, they esteem this 
the only wisdom ; and think that the careful pro- 
vision for eternity, is the folly of a few weak, 
melancholy, fanciful men : w^hereas, it is a truth, 
and in due time it will evidently appear, that those 
men only, who are solicitous for the attaining of 
their everlasting rest, are the truly wise men ; and 
shall be acknowledged to be so, by those who now 
despise them. * We fools accounted his life mad- 
ness, and his end to be without honour. How is 
he numbered among the children of God, and his 
lot is among the saints I' " 

This eminent and virtuous man possessed unin- 
terrupted health, till near the sixty-sixth year of 
his age. At this period he was affected with an 
indisposition which, in a short time, greatly im- 
paired his strength : and he found himself so unfit 
to discharge tlie duty of justice of the king's 



140 SIU MATTHEW HALE. 

bench, that he was obliged to resign the office, 
" He continued, however," says Bishop Burnet, 
" to retire frequently for his devotions and studies. 
As long as he could go himself, he went regularly 
to his retirement; and when his infirmities in- 
creased so that he was not able to walk to the 
place, he made his servants carry him thither in a 
chair. At last, as the winter came on, he saw 
with great joy his deliverance approaching : for 
besides his being weary of the world, and his long- 
ings for the blessedness of another state, his pains 
increased so much, that no patience inferior to his 
could have borne them, w'thout great uneasiness 
of mind. Yet he expressea to the last, such sub- 
mission to the will of God, and so equal a temper, 
that the powerful effects of Christianity were evi- 
dent, in the support which he derived from it, un« 
der so heavy a load. 

*^ He continued to enjoy the free use of his 
reason and senses to the latest moment of life. 
This he had often and earnestly prayed for, da 
ring his last sickness. When his voice was so sunk 
that he could not be heard, his friends perceived, 
by the almost constant lifting up of his eyes and 
hands, that he was still aspiring towards that bless- 
ed state, of which he was now to be speedily pos- 
sessed. He had no struggles, nor seemed to be 
in any pangs in his last moments. He breathed 
out his righteous and pious soul in peace " 



SECTION V. 
DU RENTI. 

Du Renti was a young nobleman of France, 
not more distinguished by his high birth, than 
by the excellent talents and qualifications of his 
mind. This accom.phshed youth, influenced by 
a strong sense of the vanity of worldly grandeur, 
and by an ardent desire to enjoy the comfort of 
a retired and religious life, believed it incumbent 
upon him to relinquish all his honours, and to with- 
draw from scenes, which he feared would ensnare 
and corrupt his heart. 

The following extracts from his views and sen- 
timents, respecting these subjects, demonstrate, that 
his mind was much redeemed from the spirit and 
enjoyments of this world ; and that he endeavoured, 
above all things, to obtain a holy and devout 
temper of heart, and to conduct himself acceptably 
in the Divine Sight. 

" When I gave up my liberty to God, I perceiv- 
ed to what a state of deep humiliation the soul 
must be brought, to render it capable of union 
with him. The splendour and vain enjoyments 
of this transitory scene, arc great encumbrances 
to me, in my endeavours to obtain the favour of 
God ; of which, therefore, his pleasure is that I 



142 DU RENTI. 

should be stripped, in order to attain that state of 
humiUty and poorness of spirit, which will bring 
me into possession of real honour and solid riches. 

" I find no security in any state, but in that of 
dying to the world, and in true self-abasement : this 
is to be baptized into Christ's death, and to live 
the life of Christian self-denial. All that can be 
imagined to befall us in this lower world, is com- 
paratively of small consequence, though it were the 
losing of all our possessions. Had we but a httle 
faith, and a little love, how happy should we find 
ourselves, in being willing to resign up every 
thing ; and in saying, My God, and my All /'* 

How conformable are these sentiments to the 
Divine injunctions, " Love not the world, nor 
the things that are in the world." — ^' But be ye 
transformed by the renewing of your mind." It 
is, indeed, a holy and happy state, to be living 
above the world, and pressing after perfection, at 
the same time that we gratefully acknowledge 
Divine Goodness, in providing for our necessities 
during our passage through life. This supreme 
love of God, and desire to be united to him, 
though often cherished by retirem.ent, is not a 
solitary and inactive principle. It not only purifies 
and exalts our minds, but it expands them towards 
our fellow creatures, and leads us into acts of u 
versal charity. 



SECTION vr. 
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 

Princess Elizabeth, of the Rhine, was born in 
the year 1620. She was the eldest daughter of 
Frederic V., elector palatine and king of Bohemiaj 
by Elizabeth, daughter of James the First, king of 
England. This excellent princess possessed only 
a small territory ; but she governed it with great 
judgment, and attention to the happiness of her 
subjects. She made it a rule to hear, one day in 
the week, all such causes as were brought before 
her. On these occasions, her wisdom, justice, 
and moderation, were very conspicuous. She 
frequently remitted forfeitures, in cases where 
the parties were poor, or in any respect worthy of 
favour. It was remarkable that she often intro- 
duced religious considerations, as motives to per- 
suade the contending parties to harmony and 
peace. She was greatly beloved and respected 
by her subjects ; and also by many persons of 
learning and virtue not resident in her dominions : 
for she patronized men of this character, whatever 
might be their country, or their religious profes- 
sion. 

In the year 1 677, the celebrated William Penn 
paid her a visit; and was treated by her with 
great respect. The following account of her is 
taken from his works : — 



1^4 PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 

" The meekness and humility of the princess 
appeared to me extraordinary: she did not con- 
sider the quality, but the merit of the people 
she entertained. Did she hear of a retired man, 
seeking after the knowledge of a better world, 
she was sure to set him down in the catalogue of 
her charity, if he wanted it. I have casually 
seen, I believe, fifty tokens of her benevolence, 
sealed and directed to the several poor subjects of 
her bounty, whose distance prevented them from 
being personally known to her. Thus, though 
she kept no sumptuous table in her own court, 
she spread the tables of the poor in their solitary 
cells ; breaking bread to virtuous pilgrims, accord- 
ing to their want and her abihty. 

*' She was abstemious in her living ; and in ap- 
parel void of all vain ornaments. I must needs 
say, that her mind had a noble prospect : her eye 
was to a better and more lasting inheritance, than 
can be found below. This made her not over- 
rate the honours of her station, or the learning of 
the schools, of which she was an excellent judge. 
Being once at Hamburgh, a religious person, 
whom she went to see for her religion's sake, re- 
marked to her, that ' it was too great an honour 
for him, that a visitant of her quality, who was 
allied to so many great kings and princes of this 
world, should come under his roof:' to whom she 
humbly replied : * If they were religious, as well 



PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 145 

as £reat, it would be an honour indeed ; but if 
you knew what that greatness is, as well as I do, 
you would value it less.' 

"After a religious meeting which we had in 
her chamber, she was much affected, and said : 
* It is a hard thing to be faithful to what one 
knows. O, the way is straight ! I am afraid I am 
\iot weighty enough in my spirit to walk in it.' 

" She once withdrew, on purpose to give her 
servants, who were religiously disposed, the liberty 
of discoursing with us, that they might the more 
freely put what questions of conscience they de- 
sired to be satisfied in. Sometimes she suffered 
both them and the poorest persons of her town, 
to sit by her in her own chamber, where we 
had two meetings. I cannot forget her last words, 
when I took my leave of her : * Let me desire 
you to remember me, though I live at so great a 
distance, and you should never see me more. I 
thank you for this good time. Be assured, that 
though my condition subjects me to divers tempt- 
ations, yet my soul has strong desires after the 
best things.' 



.^o 



" She lived till the age of sixty years ; and 
then departed at her house in Herwerden, in the 
year 1680, as much lamented, as she had been be- 
loved by her people. To her real worth I do, with 
a religious gratitude, dedicate this memorial." 

13 



SECTION VII. 



WILLIAM MOMPESSON. 



William Mompessox was rector of Eyam in 
Derbyshire, during the time of the plague that 
nearly depopulated the town in the year 1666, the 
year after that distemper prevailed in London. 
This benevolent man thought it his duty to con- 
tinue in the place, notwithstanding the plague was 
making its ravages around him. He never caught 
the disorder ; and w^as enabled, during the whole 
time of the calamity, to perform the functions of 
the physician, the legislator, and the priest, of his 
afflicted parish ; assisting the sick with his medi- 
cines, his advice, and his prayers. During these 
pious labours, his wife was taken ill, and died. 
The following letter, w^ritten by him to Sir George 
Saville, patron of the living of Eyam, breathes such 
a spirit of pure religion and resignation of mind, 
that we doubt not it will be acceptable to the 
reader : — 

" Honoured and dear sir, 

"This is the saddest news that ever my pen 
could write ! The destroying angel having taken 
up his quarters within my habitation, my dearest 
wife is gone to her eternal rest, and is invested 
with a crown of righteousness, having made a 
happy end. 



WILLIAM MOMPESSON. 147 

"Indeed, had she loved herself as well as me, 
she had fled from the pit of destruction with her 
sweet babes, and might have prolonged her days : 
but she was resolved to die a martyr to my inter- 
est. My drooping spirits are much refreshed with 
her joys, which I think are unutterable. 

" Sir, this paper is to bid you a hearty farewell 
for ever, and to bring you my humble thanks for 
all your noble favours ; and I hope you will be- 
lieve a dying man. I have as much love as hon- 
our for you, and I will bend my feeble knees to 
the God of heaven, that you, my dear lady, and 
your children, and their children, may be blessed 
with external and eternal happiness ; and that the 
same blessing may fall upon Lady Sunderland and 
her relations. 

" Dear sir, let your dying chaplain recommend 
this truth to you and your family, that no happi- 
ness or solid comfort can be found in this vale of 
tears, like living a pious life : and pray ever retain 
this rule : * Never do any thing upon which you 
dare not first ask the blessincr of God.' 



"O ' 



" Sir, I have made bold in my will with your 
name for an executor ; and I hope that you will 
not take it ill. I have joined two others with 
you, who will take from you the trouble. Your 
favourable aspect will, I know, be a great com- 
fort to my distressed orphans. I am not desirous 



14S ■ V/ILLIAM MOMPESSON. 

thai they may be great, but good ; that they may be 
brought up in the fear and admonition of the Lord. 

"Sir, I thank God I am contented to shake 
hands with all the world ; and have many comfort- 
able assurances that God will accept me upon the 
account of his Son. I find the goodness of God 
greater than ever I thought or imagined ; and I 
wish, from my soul, that it were not so much 
abused and contemned. 

" I desire, sir, that you will be pleased to make 
choice of an humble, pious man, to succeed me in 
my parsonage ; and could I see your face before 
my departure hence, I would inform you in what 
manner I think he may live comfortably amongst 
his people ; which would be some satisfaction to 
me before I die. 

" Dear sir, I beg your prayers, and desire you to 
procure the prayers of all about you, that I may 
not be daunted by the powers of hell. With tears 
I beg, that when you are praying for fatherless in- 
fants, you would remember my two pretty babes. 

" Pardon the rude style of this paper ; and be 
pleased to believe that I am, dear sir, 
" Your most obliged, most affectionate, 
" and gi'ateful servant, 

"William Mompesson. 
""Eyam, Sept. 1, 1666.'' 



SECTION VIII. 
ADMIRAL PENN. 

William Penn, afterwards Sir William Penn, 
knight and admiral of England, was born in the 
year 1621 ; and descended from an ancient family. 
At twenty-three years of age, he was made rear- 
admiral of Ireland ; at thirty-one, vice-admiral of 
England ; and at thirty two, general in the first 
Dutch war. He was a member of parliament in 
1655 ; and in 1660 was made a commissioner of 
the admiralty and navy, and governor of the fort 
and town of Kinsale. In 1664 he was appointed 
chief commander under the duke of York ; and 
was in the remarkable engagement which, in that 
year, happened with the Dutch fleet. He then 
took leave of the sea ; and soon after, finding his 
bodily infirmities increase, he withdrew to Wan- 
stead in Essex, where he died in 1670. 

A short time before his death, looking over the 
busy scenes in which he had been engaged, he be- 
came solemnly impressed with the view ; and filled 
with regret for his want of suflRcient attention to 
the mercies he had received. The following ex- 
cellent advice which, at that time, he gave to one 
of his sons, strongly expresses the religious state 
of his mind 

13* 



150 ADMIRAL PENN. 

" Son William, I am weary of the world. 1 
would not live over my days again, if I could com- 
mand them with a wish ; for the snares of life are 
greater than the fears of death. This troubles me, 
that I have offended a gracious God, who has fol 
lowed me to this day. O, have a care of sin ; that 
is the sting both of life and death. Three things 
I commend to you. First, let nothing in this world 
tempt you to wrong your conscience ; I charge 
you, do nothing against your conscience : you will 
then keep peace at home, which will be a feast to 
you in the day of trouble. Secondly, whatever 
you design to do, plan it justly, and time it season- 
ably : for these give security and despatch. Last- 
ly, be not troubled at disappointments : for if they 
may be recovered, do it ; if they cannot, trouble 
is vain. If you could not have avoided them, be 
content : peace and profit often attend submission 
to Providence ; and afflictions make wise. If you 
could have avoided them, let not your trouble ex- 
ceed instruction for another time. These rules 
will carry you with firmness and comfort through 
this inconstant world." 



CHAPTER V. 

Pascal— Robert Boyle— John Locke— John Jane way- 
Earl of Marlborough. 



SECTION I. 

PASCAL. 

Blaise Pascal was born at Clermont in France, 
m the year 1623. Nature endowed him with ex- 
traordinary powers of mind, which were highly 
cultivated. He was an eminent philosopher, a 
profound reasoner, and a sublime and elegant 
writer. We raise his character still higher, when 
we say, he was a man of most exemplary piety 
and virtue. The celebrated Bayle, speaking of 
this distinguished person, says : " a hundred vol 
umes of religious discourse*, are not of so much 
avail to confound the impious, as a simple account 
of the life of Pascal. His humilitj'' and his devo- 
tion mortify the libertines more, than if they were 
attacked by a dozen missionaries. They can no 
longer assert, that piety is confined to men of little 
minds, wlien they behold the highest degree of it, 



152 PASCAL. 

in a geometrician of the first rank, the most acute 
metaphysician, and one of the most penetrating 
minds that ever existed." 

From his infancy, Pascal gave proofs of a very 
uncommon capacity. He desired to know the 
reason of every thing, and w^hen sufficient reasons 
were not offered, he sought for better : nor would 
he ever yield his assent, but to such as appeared 
to him well-grounded. It is a comfortable reflec- 
tion, that a man of this turn, with a mind so com- 
prehensive and sagacious, entertained the most 
exalted sentiments of the Christian religion ; and 
never had the least doubt of its Divine authority. 
This information we have from his biographer, 
who knew him well, and who says, " that, by the 
instructions and example of his father, great rev- 
erence for religion was early impressed upon his 
mind, and continued with him through life ; and 
that he was always, in a high degree, opposed to 
the principles of infidehty." 

When he was in the twenty-fourth year of his 
age, he declined mathematical and philosophical 
studies, in which he had so eminently distinguished 
himiSelf, resolving to spend the remainder of his 
days in retirement; and to devote his time and 
talents wholly to the cause of piety and virtue. 
His work, entitled, "Thoughts upon Religion 
and other Subjects," has been much read and 



PASCAL. 153 

admired. He employed a great part of his 
time in prayer, and in reading the Holy Scrip- 
tures ; and he found the greatest comfort and 
delight, in these devout exercises. He used to 
say, " that the Sacred Scriptures are not so much 
adapted lo the head, as to the heart of man ; 
that they are intelligible only to those who have 
their hearts right ; and that to others they are ob- 
scure and uninteresting." In his retirement, he 
was visited by many persons of distinction, who, 
on account of his great wisdom and piety, 
wished to consult him respecting religious sub- 
jects. His conversation abundantly answered 
their expectations : but he felt a fear to possess 
his mind, lest, on such occasions, he should speak 
rather to gratify his own vanity, than simply to 
afford information. 

In the following lines, which were written by 
himself, and found among his papers after his 
decease, we see a striking picture of the mind of 
this good man : 

** I respect poverty, because Jesus Christ re- 
spected it : I respect riches, because they furnish 
the means of reheving the distressed. — I do not 
return evil to those who have done me an injury. 
I endeavour to be sincere and faithful to all men ; 
but I have a pecuhar tendc^-ness towards those 
with wliom God has caused me to be intimately 



154 PASCAL. 

connected. Whether I am alone, or in company, 
I consider myself as in the sight of God, who 
will judge my actions, and to w-hom I consecrate 
them all. — These are my sentiments : and I daily 
bless my Redeemer, who has impressed them 
upon me ; and who, by the operation of his 
grace, has taken away the concupiscence, pride, 
ambition, and misery, to which I was naturally 
subject. I owe my deliverance to his power and 
goodness, having nothing of myself but imbecility 
and corruption." 

Pascal, from his youth, was much afflicted 
with sickness ; and he often said that, from the 
nineteenth year of his age, he had never passed 
a day free from pain. He submitted to his suf- 
ferings without a murmur, and even at times 
rejoiced in them ; believing that they came from 
the hand of his most m.erciful Father, and were 
designed for the purification and improvement of 
his soul. During his last illness, his deportment 
was truly edifying ; and his expressions of charity 
and pious resignation, though deeply affecting, 
were highly consolatory to his friends. He said 
to his sister w^ho attended him : " How has it 
happened that I have never done any thing foi 
the poor, though I have always had a great love 
for them?" She observed to him that he had not 
possessed property sufficient to afford them much 
assistance. "Then," said he, "I ought to have 



PASCAL. 155 

given them my time and labour. In this respect 
I am to blame : and if my physicians speak truly, 
and God should permit me to recover, I am re- 
solved that the service of the poor shall be the 
sole employment of my remaining days." 

To some of his friends, who expressed the con- 
cern they felt on account of his great and con- 
tinued afflictions, he said : " I know the dangers 
of health, and the advantages of sickness. — 
When we are ill, we are exempt from many of 
the passions which disturb us in health ; we are 
without ambition, without avarice ; we are in 
continual expectation of death. We have no- 
thing to do, but to submit humbly and peace- 
fully." 

The humility and simplicity of heart, for 
which he was always remarkable, seemed to in- 
crease as he approached his end. A person who 
frequently visited him in his last sickness, said 
of him : " He is a child : he is humble ; he sub- 
mits hke a little child." — One of his particular 
friends, who had spent an hour with him, and had 
been much edified by his meek and pious example, 
thus expressed himself to his sister : " You may, 
indeed, be comforted. If God should call him 
hence, you have abundant cause to praise that 
gracious Being for the favours which he has con- 
ferred upon him I always very much admired 



156 PASCAL. 

his great qualities : but I never before observed 
that extraordinary simphcity which I have just 
now witnessed : it is wonderful in such a mind as 
he possesses. I most cordially wish that I were 
in his situation." 

His last words were : " May God never forsake 
me !" and he died full of peace and hope. 

With every deduction that can be made, for a 
few errors arising from peculiar circumstances, 
Pascal was undoubtedly one of the greatest 
ornaments of human nature. Few have rivalled 
him in talents, and few have led a life of equal 
innocence and pietv. 



^ECflON 11. 

ROBERT BOYLE. 

The honourable Robert Boyle, an eminent 
philosopher, and a truly good man, was the son 
of Richard, earl of Cork, and was born at Lis* 
more, in Ireland, in the year 1627. At Eton 
school, where he was educated, he soon discovered 
a force of understanding, which promised great 
things : and a disposition to improve it to the 
utmost. During his education, and before he 
was ten years old, he was much afflicted with an 
ague, which considerably depressed his spirits : 
and to divert his attention, he Was persuaded to 
read Amadis de Gaul, and other romantic books* 
But this kind of reading, he says in his memoirs^ 
produced such restlessness in him, that he was 
obliged to apply himself to mathematical studies, 
in order to fix and settle the volatility of his 
fancy. 

He was a man of great learning ; and Iiis stock 
of knowledge was immense. The celebrated Dr. 
Bocrhaave has passed the following eulogium 
upon him : *' Boyle was the ornament of his age 

14 ir>7 



158 ROBERT BOYLE. 

and country. Which of his writings shall I com- 
mend ? All of them. To him we owe the secrets 
of fire, air, water, animals, vegetables, fossils : so 
that from his works may be deduced the whole 
system of natural knowledge." 

He was treated with particular kindness and 
respect by King Charles the Second, as well as by 
the two great ministers, Southampton and Cla- 
rendon. By the latter, he was solicited to enter 
into orders : for his distinguished learning, and 
unblemished reputation, induced Lord Clarendon 
to think, that so very respectable a personage 
would do great honour to the clergy. Boyle 
considered the proposal with due attention. He 
reflected, that, in his present situation of life, 
whatever he wrote, Avith respect to religion, would 
have greater weight, as coming from a layman : 
for he w^ell knew, that the irreligious fortified 
themselves against all that the clergy could offer, 
by supposing and saying, that it was their trade, 
and that they were paid for it. He considered, 
likewise, that, in point of fortune and character, 
he needed no accessions : and, indeed, his desire 
for these was always very limited. But Bishop 
Burnet, to whom Boyle had communicated me- 
morandums concerning his life, tells us, that 
what had the greatest weight, in determining his 
judgment, was, " the not feeling within himself 
any motion or tendency of mind which lie could 



ROBERT BOYLE. 159 

safely esteem a call from the Holy Spirit : and 

therefore he did not venture to take holy orders, 

lest he should be found to have lied unto 
it." 

Bishop Burnet, who was Boyle's particular 
friend, and who, during an intimacy of twenty- 
nine years, had spent many happy hours in 
conversation with him, gives a full account of his 
genuine piety and virtue, and of his zeal for the 
Christian rehgion. " This zeal," he says, " was 
unmixed with narrow notions, or a bigoted heat 
in favour of a particular sect : it was that spirit 
which is the ornament of a true Christian." Bur- 
net mentions, as a proof of this, his noble founda- 
tion for lectures in defence of the gospel, against 
infidels of all sorts ; the effects of which have 
been very conspicuous in the many volumes 
of excellent discourses which have been pub- 
lished in consequence of that laudable and pious 
design. 

He was at the charge of the translation and 
impression of the New Testament, into the Ma- 
layan tongue : and he had it dispersed in the East 
Indies. He gave a great reward to the person 
who translated into Arabic, Grotius's incom- 
parable book, on the truth of the Christian reli- 
gion ; and had a whole edition printed at his own 
expense, which he took care to have spread in all 



160 ROBERT BOYLE. 

the countries where that language was understood. 
By munificent donations, and by his patronage, 
he also very materially promoted the plans of 
other persons, for propagating the Christian re- 
ligion, in remote parts of the world. In other 
respects, his charities were so extensive, that 
they amounted to more than a thousand pounds 
sterling every year. 

The great object of his philosophical pursuits, 
was, to promote the cause of religion, and to dis- 
countenance atheism and infidelity. His intimate 
friend, Bishop Burnet, makes the following ob- 
servations on this point : " It appeared to those 
w^ho conversed with him on his inquiries into 
nature, that his main design, (on which as he 
had his own eye constantly fixed, so he took care 
to put others often in mind of it,) was to raise in 
himself and others, more exalted sentiments of the 
greatness and glory, the wisdom and goodness of 
God. This design was so deeply impressed on 
his mind, that he concludes the article of his will 
which relates to the Royal Society, in these 
words : * I wish them a happy success, in their 
attempts to discover the true nature of the works 
of God : and I pray that they, and all othei 
searchers into physical truths, may cordially refer 
their attainments, to the glory of the great 
Author of nature, and to the comfort of man 
kind.' " 



ROBERT BOTLE. 161 

On another occasion, the same person speaks 
of him thus : " He had the most profound vene- 
ration for the great God of heaven and earth, 
that I ever observed in any man. The very- 
name of God was never mentioned by him, with- 
out a pause and observable stop in his discourse." 
So brightly did the example of this great and 
good man shine, through his whole course, that 
Bishop Bm-net, on reviewing it, in a moment of 
pious exultation, thus expressed himself : ** I might 
challenge the whole tribe of libertines, to come 
and view the usefulness, as well as the excel- 
lence of the Christian religion, in a life that was 
entirely dedicated to it." 

14* 



SECTION III. 



JOHN LOCKE. 



John Locke, a very celebrated philosopher, 
and one of the greatest men that England ever 
produced, was born in the year 1632. He was 
well educated ; and applying himself with vigour 
to his studies, his mind became enlarged, and 
stored with much useful knowledge. He went 
abroad as secretary to the English ambassador at 
several of the German courts ; and afterwards had 
the offer of being made envoy at the court of the 
emperor, or of any other that he chose : but he 
declined the proposal, on account of the infirm 
state of his health. He was a commissioner of 
trade and plantations, in which station he very 
honourably distinguished himself. Notwithstand- 
ing his public employments, he found leisure to 
write much for the benefit of mankind. His " Es- 
say on Human Understanding," his "Discourses 
on Government," and his " Letters on Toleration," 
are justly held in high estimation. 

This enlightened man and profound reasoner, 
was most firmly attached to the Christian religion. 
His zeal to promote it appeared, first, in his 
middle age, by publishing a discourse to demon- 
strate the reasonableness of believincr Jesus to 
be the promised Messiah ; and, afterwards, in 

163 



JOHN LOCKE. 163 

the latter part of his hfe, by a very judicious 
Commentary on several of th^ Epistles of the 
Apostle Paul. The sacred Scriptures are every 
where mentioned by him with the greatest rever- 
ence ; and he exhorts Christians, "to betake them- 
selves in earnest to the study of the way to 
salvation, in those holy writings, wherein God 
has revealed it from heaven, and proposed it to 
the world ; seeking our religion where we are 
sure it is in truth to be found, comparing spiritual 
things with spiritual." 

In a letter, written the year before his death, to 
a person who asked this question, " What is the 
shortest and surest way for a young man to attain 
the true knowledge of the Christian Religion ?" 
he says : " Let him study the Holy Scriptures, 
especially the New Testament. Therein are con- 
tained the words of eternal life. It has God for 
its author ; salvation for its end ; and truth with- 
out any mixture of error, for its matter." This 
advice was conformable to his own practice. — 
"For fourteen or fifteen years, he applied him- 
self, in an especial manner, to the study of the 
Scriptures, and employed the last years of his 
life hardly in any thing else. He was never 
weary of admiring the great views of that sacred 
book, and the just relation of all its parts : he 
every day made discoveries in it, that gave hini 
fresh cause of admiration." 



J 64 JOHN LOCKE, 

The consolation which he derived fronn Divine 
revelation, is forcibly expressed in these words : 
^' I gratefully receive ^nd rejoice in the light of 
revelation, which has set me at rest in many 
things, the rnanner whereof my poor reason can 
\>y no means rnake out to me. 

After he had diligently eiiiployed a great part 
of his life in a variety of occupation?, he chose ^ 
pleasing retirement for the remainder of his days. 
This leisure appears to have been productive of 
solid improvement, by enabling him to look 
calmly over the scenes of past life ; to form a 
proper estimate of its enjoyments ; and to dedi? 
cate himself more fully to the cause of piety an4 
virtue. 

The summer before his death, he began to be 
very sensible of his approaching dissolution. He 
cften spoke of it, and always with great compo- 
sure, A short tioie before his decease, he declarecj 
to a friend> that " he was in the sentiments of per? 
feet charity towards all men; and of a sincere 
union with the church of Christ, u.nder whatever 
name distinguished." 

The day before his death, Lady Mashana being 
5tlone with him, and sitting by his bedside, he 
ftxhorted her to regard this world only as a state 
erf preparation for a better; adding, that "he 



JOHN LOCKE. 165 

had lived long enough, and thanked God for hav- 
ing passed his days so comfortably ; but that this 
life appeared to him mere vanity." His meaning, 
in this last expression, doubtless was, that the 
duration and enjoyment of this life, are as no- 
thing, compared with the endless ages, and the 
supreme felicity, of the life which is to come. 

The same day, he particularly advised all about 
him to read the Scriptures ; and desired to be re- 
membered by them at evening prayers. Being 
told that, if he chose it, the whole family should 
be with him in his chamber, he said, he should be 
very glad to have it so, if it would not give too 
much trouble : and an occasion offering to speak 
of the goodness of God, he especially exalted the 
care which God showed to man in justifying him 
by faith in Jesus Christ ; and in particular, return- 
ed God thanks, for haying blessed him with the 
knowledge of the Divine Saviour. 

About two months before his death, he wrote 
a letter to his friend, Anthony Collins, and left 
this direction upon it : " To be delivered to him 
after my decease." It concludes with the follow- 
in nr remarkable words : — 



o 



" May you live long and happy, in the enjoy- 
ment of health, freedom, content, and all those 
blessings which Providence has bestowed on you, 



166 JOHN LOr-KE. 

and to which your virtue entitles you. You loved 
me hving, and will preserve my memory when I 
am dead. All the use to be made of it is, that this 
life is a scene of vanity, which soon passes away, 
and affords no solid satisfaction, but in the con 
sciousness of doing w^ell, and in the hopes of an- 
other life. This is Avhat I can say upon experi- 
ence ; and what you will find to be true, when you 
come to make up the account. Adieu." 

The following extract from a letter written by 
Lady Masham, deserves a place among the testimo- 
nies respecting this distinguished and excellent man: 

" You will not, perhaps, dislike to know, that 
the last scene of Mr. Locke's life, was not less 
admirable than any thing else concerning him. 
All the faculties of his mind were perfect to the 
last. His weakness, of which only he died, made 
such gradual and visible advances, that few peo- 
ple, I think, do so sensibly see death approach 
them, as he did. During all this time, no one 
could observe the least alteration in his humour : 
always cheerful, conversable, civil ; to the last 
day thoughtful of all the concerns of his friends, 
and omitting no fit occasion of giving Christian 
advice to all about him. In short, his d^ath was, 
like his life, truly pious : yet natural, easy, and 
unaffected. Time, I think, can never produce a 
more eminent example of reason and religion than 
he was, both living and dying. 



SECTION IV« 
JOHN JANEWAY. 

John Jane way was born in Hertfordshire, in 
the year 1633. He was remarkable for his piety 
and love of mankind, for an exemplary conduct 
through life, and a happy, triumphant death. 

Before he was thirteen years of age, he had 
made a considerable proficiency in the mathe- 
matics, in the science of astronomy, and in other 
branches of useful literature. At the age of seven- 
teen, he was chosen to King's College in Cam- 
bridge ; and when he was about eighteen, it 
pleased Divine Goodness to open his understand- 
ing, and discover to him, that the knowledge of 
his Creator, and a consciousness of an interest 
in his love, through Jesus Christ, was infinitely 
superior to every attainment and possession of this 
world. At this time, he became sensible that as- 
tronomy surveys but a molehill, in comparison 
of the great objects which the religion of Jesus 
contemplates. The complacency and delight 
which he found in a religious life, were discernible 
in his very countenance. Though he had a just 
sense of the value of learning and knowledge, yet 
he now "counted every thing but as dross and 
dung, in comparison of the knowledge of Christ, 
and him crucified." From this period of his life 
to the conclusion of it, he continued to rise above 

167 



163 JOHN JANEWAY. 

the world, and to labour for purity of heart, and 
acceptance in the Divine Sight. 

As his own con>forts came from the somxe pf 
sill consolation, so he wa^ desirous of leading others 
to partake of that fountain^ and to depend upon it 
for support. " We poor foolish creatures,'* said he, 
pn a particular occasion, " scarcely know what is 
good for ourselves : but it is no sn>all encourage- 
ment to the people of God, that wisdom itself is 
their guard ; and that one who loves them better 
than they love themselves, cares for them." 

When he fell into a decline^ and had but little 
prospect of life, he was far from being alarmed 
with the view of his dissolution. " I am 
^shamed," he said, " to desire and pray for life. 
Is there any thing here, more desirable than the 
enjoyment of Jesus Christ ? Can I desire any 
thing below comparable to that blessed visio^i? 
O that crown ! that rest which remains for the pea 
pie of God ! and, blessed be God, I can say, 1 
know it is mine." 

It was his custom to set apart an hour ev^ 
day, for secret retirement and solemn meditation. 
On one of these occasions, a friend of his, un- 
known to him, placed himself in a situation, 
where he observed all that passed ; and his re- 
marks on the scene before him, are worthy of 



JOHN JANE WAY. 169 

insertion, *^What a spectacle did I behold! 
Surely, a man walking with God, conversing in- 
timately with him, and maintaining a holy free- 
dom with the great Jehovah. Methought I saw 
a spiritual merchant in a heavenly exchange, 
pursuing a rich trade for the treasures of the other 
world. what an animating sight it was ! me- 
ihinks I see him still. How lovely was his coun- 
tenance ! His looks, and smiles, and every motion, 
«poke hjin to be upon the confines of glory." 

He was full of love and compassion to the souls 
of men ; and often greatly lamented the barren- 
ness of Christians, in their converse with each 
other. " 0," said he, on a particular occasion, "to 
spend an hour or two together, and to hear 
scarcely a word that speaks people's hearts in love 
with holiness ! Where is our love to God, and 
our fellow-creatures, all this while ? Where is our 
sense of the preciousness of time ? of the great- 
ness of our account ? Should we talk thus, if we 
beheved we should hear of it again at the day of 
judgment? Does not this speak aloud that our 
hearts are devoid of grace ; and that we have little 
sense of spiritual and eternal concerns ?" 

To a friend who visited him, and who spoke of the 
f xccllence of Christ, and of the glory of the invisi- 
ble world, he replied : " Ah ! I feel something of it. 
My heart is as full as it can hold in this lower state,'* 
15 



170 JOHN JANE WAY. 

Though he was, generally, as he approached 
his end, in a triumphant frame of spirit, yet he 
experienced, at times, some variations : and in 
these seasons, he used to say • " Hold out, faith 
and patience, yet a little while, and your trial will 
be over." 

Near the close of life, most of his work was 
praise. Admiring the boundless love of God to 
him, he said : " O, why this love to me, Lord ? 
why to me ? — Praise is now my work, and I 
shall be engaged in that sweet employment for 
ever. O, help me to praise him ! I have nothing 
else to do. I have done with prayer ; I have al- 
most done with conversing with mortals. I shall 
soon behold Christ himself, who died for me, and 
loved me, and washed me in his blood. I shall 
shortly be in eternity, singing the song of 
Moses, and the song of the Lamb. I shall pre- 
sently stand upon Mount Sion, with an innu- 
merable company of angels, and the spirits of 
the just made perfect. I shall hear the voice of 
multitudes, and be one amongst them who say : 
' Hallelujah ! salvation, glory, and honour, and 
power, unto the Lord our God !' " 

Thus did this favoured and happy spirit take his 
leave of the world, and rise triumphant to the 
regions of bliss and immortality. He died in the 
twenty-fifth year of his age. 



SECTION V. 
EARL OF MARLBOROUGH. 

James, earl of Marlborough, was killed in 
a battle at sea, on the coast of Holland, in the 
year 1665. Not long before his death, he had a 
presentiment of it ; and wrote to his friend, Sir 
Hugh Pollard, a letter, of which the following is 
an extract : — 

"I believe the goodness of your nature, and 
the friendship you have always borne me, will 
receive with kindness the last office of your friend. 
I am in health enough of body, and, through the 
mercy of God in Jesus Christ, well disposed m 
mind. This I premise, that you may be satisfied 
that what I write proceeds not from any fantastic 
terror of mind, but from a sober resolution of what 
concerns myself, and an earnest desire to do you 
more good after my death, than my example, (God 
of his mercy pardon the badness of it !) in my 
lifetime, may do you harm. 

" I will not speak aught of the vanity of this 
world : your own age and experience will save 
that labour. But there is a certain thing called 
Religion, dressed fantastically, and to purposes 
bad enough, which yet, by such evil dealing, 
loseth not its being. The great, good God hath 

171 



172 EARL OF MARLBOROUGH. 

not left it without a witness, more or less, sooner or 
later, in every man's bosom, to direct us in the 
pursuit of it ; and for avoiding those inextricable 
disquisitions and entanglements, our own frail 
reason would perplex us with, God, in his infi- 
nite mercy, hath given us his holy word, in which, 
as there are many things hard to be understood, 
so there is enough plain and easy, to quiet our 
minds, and direct us concerning our future being. 
I confess to God and you, I have been a great 
neglecter, and, I fear, despiser of it : God, of his 
infinite mercy, pardon me the dreadful fault ! 
Put w^hen I retired myself from the noise and de- 
ceitful vanity of the world, I found no true comfort 
in any other resolution than what I had from thence. 
I commend, from the bottom of my heart, the same 
to yPiLir, I hope, happy use. 

" Dear Hugh, let us be more generous, than to 
believe we die as the beasts that perish ; but with 
a Christian, manly, brave resolution, look to what 
is eternal. The only great and holy God, Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost, direct you to a happy end 
of your life, and send us a joyful resurrection. 
So prays your true friend, 

" Marlborough.'* 

This letter marks the writer's strong sense of 
the importance of tlue sacred writings ; and his 
deep regret for having, at any period, treated them 



BARL OF MARLBOROUGH, 173 

with indifference. * When our pursuits in life, our 
companions, or our taste for a particular species 
of reading, occasipn us to contemn or neglect 
the Holy Scriptures, and the simplicity of the 
Gospel, it is a sad proof that the mind has begun 
to be perverted, and that the way is prepared for 
great depravity of heart. Whatever, therefore, 
tends to lessen our esteem for those venerable 
and highly interesting communications of the 
Divine Will ; or disinclines us to the perusal 
and study of them ; should be regarded with early 
apprehension, and ayoid^d with the utmost soli- 
citude. 

- The Scriptures," says Bishop Hprne, " are 
wonderful, with respect \o the rnatter which they 
cor^tain, the manner in which they are wptten, 
and the effects which they produce. They con- 
tain the sublimest truths, many of which are 
veiled under external ceremonies and figurative 
descriptions. WJfen they are properly opened 
apd enforced, they terrjfy and humble, they con- 
vert and transform, they console and strengthen. 
Who but must delight to study, and to observe, 
these testimonies of the will and the wisdom, the 
love and the power of God most high ! While 
we haye thpse holy writings, let us not waste our 
time, misemploy our thoughts, and prostitute our 
adnr^iration, by dqating on hurnan follies, apd pon- 
dering at hi)man trifles." 

15* 



CHAPTER VL 

Lady Rachel Russel — Jane Ratcliffe — Sir Isaac Newton 
— Bishop Burnet — John, Earl of Rochester. 



SECTION. I. 



LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 



Lady Rachel Russel, daughter of the earl oi 
Southampton, was born about the year 1636. 
She appears to have possessed a truly noble mind, 
a solid understanding, an amiable and a benevo- 
lent temper. Her pious resignation, and reli- 
gious deportment, under the pressure of very 
deep distress, afford a highly instructive example, 
and an eminent instance of the Pov^er of Religion 
to sustain the mind, in the greatest storms and 
dangers, when the waves of affliction threaten to 
overwhelm it. 

It is well known, that the husband of this lady, 
William, Lord Russel, was beheaded in the reign 
of Charles the Second; that he was a man of 
great merit ; and that he sustained the execution 

174 



LADY RACHEL IIUSSEL. 175 

ot his severe sentence, with Christian and invin- 
cible fortitude. During the period of her illus- 
trious husband's troubles, she conducted herself 
with a mixture of the most tender affection, and 
the most surprising magnanimity. She appeared 
in court at his trial; and when the attorney- 
general told him, "He might employ the hand 
of one of his servants in waiting, to take notes of 
the evidence for his use," Lord Russel answered, 
" that he asked none, but that of the lady who sat 
by him." The spectators, at these words, turned 
their eyes, and beheld the daughter of the virtu- 
ous Southampton rising up to assist her lord in 
this his utmost distress : a thrill of anguish ran 
through the assembly. After his condemnation, 
she threw herself at the king^s feet ; and pleaded, 
but alas ! in vain, the merits and loyalty of her 
father, in order to save her husband. 

When the time of separation came, her con- 
duct appears to be worthy of the highest admi- 
ration : for without a sigh or tear, she took her 
last farewell of her husband, though it might 
have been expected, as they were so happy in 
each other, and no wife could possibly surpass 
her in affection, that the torrent of her distress 
would have overflowed its banks, and been too 
mighty for restraint. Lord Russel parted from 
his lady with a composed silence : and observing 
how greatly she was supported, said after she was 



176 LADY RACHEJ. BTJSSEL. 

gone : " The bitterness of death is now past :" 
for he loved and esteemed her beyond expression. 
He declared, that ^' she had been a great blessing 
to him; and observed, that he should have been 
miserable, if she had not possessed so great mag- 
nanimity of spirit joined to her tenderness, as 
never to have desired him to do a b.^se thing to 
save his life." He said, "there was a signal 
providence of God, in giving him such a wife, in 
whom were united noble birth and fortune, great 
understanding, great religion, and great kindness 
to himself; but that her behaviour in his extr,em 
ity, exceeded all." 

Aftej- th,e deaj:h of her lord upon the scaffold, 
this excellent woman, encompassed with the 
darkest clouds of affliction, seemed to be absorbed 
in a religious concern, to behave properly under 
the afflicting hand of God ; and to fulfil the 
duties now devolved upon herself alone, in the 
care, education, disposal, and happiness, of hex 
children ; those living remains of her lord, which 
had been so dear to him, and which were, for his 
sake, as well as their own, so dear to herself. 

The following short extracts from a few of he] 
letters, evince the humble and pious frame ot 
her mind ; the great benefits she derived from hei 
afflictions ; and the comfortable hope she enter 
tained of her future rest and felicity : — 



LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 177 

— —"You, my friend, who knew us both, 
and how we Hved, must allow I have just cause 
to bewail my loss. I know it is common with 
others to lose a friend : but few can glory in 
the happiness of having lived with such a one ; 
and few, consequently, can lament the like loss. 
Who but must shrink at such a blow, till, by 
the mighty aid of the Holy Spirit, they let the 
gift of God, which he has put into their hearts, 
interpose ? O ! if I did steadfastly believe, I 
could not be dejected : for I will not injure my- 
self to say, I offer my mind any inferior conso- 
lation to supply this loss. No ; I most willingly 
forsake this world, this vexatious, troublesome 
world ; in which I have no other business, than to 
rid my soul from sin, and secure my eternal inter- 
ests ; to bear with patience and courage, my emi- 
nent misfortunes, and ever hereafter to be above 
the smiles and frowns of it : and, having finished 
the remnant of the work appointed me on earth, 
joyfully to wait for the heavenly perfection in 
God's good time ; when, by his infinite mercy, I 
may be counted worthy to enter into the same 
place of rest and repose, where he is gone, for 
whom I grieve." 



-" The future part of my life will not, I ex- 



pect, pass as perhaps I would choose. — Sense has 
long enough been satisfied ; indeed so long, that I 
know not how to live by faith ; yet the pleasant 



173 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 

Stream, that fed it near fourteen years together, 
being gone, I have no sort of refreshment, but 
when I can repair to that hving Fountain, whence 
all flows ; while I look not at the things which are 
seen, but at those which are not seen, expecting 
that day which will settle and compose all my 
tumultuous thoughts, in perpetual peace and 
quiet." 

" The consideration of the other world 



is not only very great, but in my small judg- 
ment, the only support under the greatest of 
afflictions that can befall us here. The enliven- 
ing heat of those glories, is sufficient to animate 
and refresh us, in our dark passage through this 
world : and notwithstanding I am below the : 
meanest of God's servants, and have not, in the i 
least d^ree, lived answerably to those opportu- i 
nities I have had ; yet my Mediator is my judge, ] 
and he will not despise weak beginnings, though ! 
there be more smoke than flame. He will help 
us in believing ; and, though he suffer us to be i 
cast down, will not cast us off", if we commit our 
cause to him. — I strive to reflect how large my | 
portion of good things has been : and though 
they are passed away, no more to return, yet I 
have a pleasant work to do, to dress up my soul 
for my desired change, and to fit it for the converse 
of angels, and the spirits of just men made per- 
fect; among whom, my hope is, my loved lord 



LADY RACHEL HUSSEL. 179 

is one ; and my often-repeated prayer to God-is, 
ihat if I have a reasonable ground for that hope, 
it may give refreshment to my poor sonl.^ 

"From the enticing delights of the 



world, I can, after this event, be better weaned. 
I was too rich in possessions, while I possessed 
him. All relish now is gone. I bless God for it; 
and pray that I may more and more turn the 
stream of my affections upwards, and set my 
heart upon the ever-satisfying perfections of God ; 
not starting at his darkest providences, but re- 
membering continually, that either his glory, 
justice, or power, is advanced by every one of 
them, and that mercy is over all his works ; as 
we shall one day, with ravishing delight, behold. 
In the meantime, I endeavour to suppress all 
wild imaginations, which a melancholy mind is 
apt to let in ; and to say, with the man in the 
Gospel, * I believe ; help thou my unbelief.' '* 



" It is the grace of God which disposes 

me to ask for, and thirst after, such comforts as 
the world cannot give. What comforts it can 
give, I am most sure I have felt, and experienced 
to be uncertain and perishing. Such I will never 
more, the grace of God assisting, look after* 
and yet I expect a joyful day, after some mourn- 
ful ones ; and though I walk sadly through the 
valley of death, I will fear no evil, humbling 



160 LADY RACHEL RUSSEL* 

myself under the mighty hand of God, who tvil 
save in the day of trouble. He knows my sor 
rows, and the weakness of my person : I commil 
myself and mine to him.— -The saddest state to a 
good soul, will one day end in rest. This is my 
best comfort, and a greater we cannot have; yet 4 J 
the degree is raised, when we consider that we ^ 
shall not only rest, but live in regions of un* 
speakable bliss. This should lead us sweetly 
through the dark passage of the world ; and suf- 
fer us to start at nothing we either meet with, or 
our fears suggest may happen to us/' 

To Lady Essex, slie wrote as follows : — " I be- 
seech God one day to speak peace to our af- 
flicted minds, and not to suffer us to be disap* 
pointed of our great hope. But we must wait 
for our day of consolation, till this world passes 
away : an unkind and trustless world this has 
been to us. Why it has been such, God knows 
best. All his dispensations serve the end of 
his providence. They are ever beautiful, and 
must be good, and good to every one of us ; and 
even these dismal ones are so to us, if we can 
bear evidence to our own souls, that we are bettei 
for our afflictions ; which is often the case with 
those who suffer wrongfully. We may reason- 
ably believe our friends have found that rest we 
yet but hope for ; and what better comfort can 
you or I desire, in this valley of the shadow of 



LADY RACHEL RUSSEL. 181 

death wc arc walking through ? The rougher our 
path is, the more delightful and ravishing will be 
the great change," 

She survived Lord Russel above forty years; 
and continued his widow to the end of her life. 
She died in the year 1723, in the 87th year of 
her age. Her continued hope and trust in him, 
who had been the staff of her life, and her sup- 
port in affliction, is evidenced by the following 
declaration, made not long before the end of her 
days : " God has not denied me the support of 
his Holy Spirit, in this my long day of calamity ; 
but he has enabled me, in some measure, to re- 
joice in iiim as my portion for ever. He lias 
provided a remedy for all our griefs, by his sure 
promises of another life ; where there is no death, 
nor any pain nor trouble, but fulness of joy, in 
the presence of Him who made us, and who w^iL 
love us for ever." 

16 



SECTION II. 

JANE RATCLIFFE. 

Jane Ratcliffe was born about the year 1600. 
Her extraordinary faith and piety render her a 
suitable subject for these memoirs. 

In early life, she indulged herself in many ot 
the folHes and vanities of her time ; but being 
awakened to a sense of their fatal tendency, she 
renounced them ; and placed her affections on 
objects which alone can confer solid and durable 
enjoyment. We shall pass over the intermediate 
parts of her circumspect life, and come to the 
closing scene of it ; when she appeared to be 
much raised above the love of life, and the fears of 
death. The following is an extract from her own 
expressions, on that solemn occasion. At the 
same time that they manifest her desire to be re- 
leased from the sorrows and dangers of mortality, 
there can be no doubt that it was hmited by a 
humble submission, and pious resignation, to the 
will of Heaven : — 

" I desire to die, " said she, " because I want, 
while I live here, the glorious presence of God, 
which I love and long for ; and the sweet fellow- 
ship of angels and saints, who would be as glad to 
see me Avith them, as I should be to see them 

1S2 



JANE RATCLIFFE. 183 

about me : and who would entertain me with un- 
wearied delight. 

" I desire to die — because, white I Hve, I shall 
want the perfection of my nature, and be as an 
estranged and banished child from my father's 
house. 

" I desire to die — because I would not live to 
offend so good a God, and grieve his Holy Spirit. 
For his loving-kindness is better than life, and he 
is abundant in mercy to me ; and the fear of dis- 
pleasing him often lies as a heavy load upon my 
heart. 

" I desire to die — ^because this world is gene- 
rally infected with the plague of sin, and I m.yself 
am tainted with the same disease : so that, while I 
live here, I shall be in danger of being infected, 
or of infecting others. And if this world hates 
me, because I endeavour to follow goodness, how 
would it rejoice, if my foot should slip ! How woe- 
ful would my life be to me, if I should give oc- 
casion to the world to triumph and blaspheme ! 
There are in my nature so many defects, errors, 
and transgressions, that I may soy with David, 
* Innumerable evils have compassed me about : 
my iniquities have taken hold on me, so that I am 
not able to look up.' I therefore desire heaven 
for l]oliness, and to the end I may sin no more. 



184 JANE RATCLIFFE. 

" I desire to die — ^because nothing in this wond 
can give me soHd and durable contentment. 

" With regard to my children, I am not troubled ; 
for that God who has given them life and breath, 
and all they have, while I am living, can provide 
for them when I am dead. My God will be their 
God, if they be his : and if they be not, what 
comfort would it be for me to live to behold it ? 
Life would be bitter to me, if I should see them 
dishonour God, whom I so greatly love. 

" I fear not death — ^because it is but the sepa- 
ration of the soul from the body : and that is 
but the shadow of the body of death. Whereas, 
the separation of the soul from God by sin, and 
of soul and body for sin, is death indeed. 

"I fear not death — because it is an enemy that 
has been often vanquished ; and because I am armed 
for it ; and the weapons of my warfare are mighty 
through God, and I am assured of victory. 

" I do not fear death for the pain of it ; for I 
am persuaded I have endured as great pain in 
life, as I shall find in death; and death will cure 
me of all sorts of pain. Besides, Christ died a 
terrible death, to the end any kind of death might 
be blessed to me. And that God who has greatly 
loved me in life, will not neglect me in death; 



JANE RATCLIFFE. 186 

but will, by his Spirit, succour and strengthen me 
all the time of the combat." 

For her comfort in her last hours, she put into 
the following form, some memoirs of the piinci- 
pal mercies and blessings she had received from 
God:— 

"How shall I praise God for my conversion? 
for his word, both in respect of my affection to it, 
and the wonderful comforts I have had from it ? 
for hearing my prayers ? for godly sorrow ? for 
fellowship with the godly ? for joy in the Holy 
Spirit ? for the desire of death ? for contempt of 
the world ? for private helps and comforts ? for 
giving me some strength against my sins ? for 
preserving me from gross evils, both before and 
after my calling ?" 

In her last sickness, which was of long continu- 
ance, she was deeply sensible of the dangers and 
miseries that attend our progress through life ; 
and often implored God to remove her into a 
better world, saying, in the words of David: 
* Make haste to help me, Lord, my salvation ! 
Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me ! O Lord, make 
haste to help me !" — And she was relieved in the 
tenderest manner : for her spirit departed from the 
body, when it was thought she had only fallen 
asleep. — She died in the year 1G38. 

16* 



SECTION III. 

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 

Sir Isaac Newton, a rxiost celebrated English 
philosopher and mathematician, and one of the 
greatest geniuses that ever appeared in the 
world, was descended from an ancient family in 
Lincolnshire, where he was born, in the year 
1642. His powers of mind were wonderfully 
comprehensive and penetrating. Fontenelle says 
of him : that " in learning mathematics, he did 
not study Euclid, who seemed to him too plain 
and simple, and unworthy of taking up his time. 
He understood him almost before he read him : a 
cast of his eye on the contents of the theorems of 
that great mathematician, seemed to be sufficient 
to make him master of them." Several of his 
works mark a profundity of thought and reflec- 
tion, that has astonished the most learned men. 
He was highly esteemed by the university of 
Cambridge ; and was twice chosen to represent 
that place in parliament. He was also greatly 
favoured by Queen Anne, and by George the 
First. The princess of Wales, afterwards queen- 
consort of England, who had a turn for philosophi- 
cal inquiries, used frequently to propose questions 
to him. This princess had a great regard for him ; 
and often declared that she thought herself happy 
to live at the same time as he did, and to have the 
pleasure and advantage of his conversation. 

186 



SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 187 

This eminent philosopher was remarkable for 
being of a very meek disposition, and a great 
lover of peace. He would rather have chosen to 
remain in obscurity, than to have the serenity of 
his days disturbed by those storms and disputes, 
which genius and learning often draw upon those 
who are eminent for them. We find him reflect- 
ing on the controversy respecting his optic lectures, 
(in which he had been almost unavoidably engaged,) 
in the following terms: " I blamed my own im- 
prudence, for parting with so real a blessing as my 
quiet, to run after a shadow." 

The amiable quality of modesty stands very con- 
spicuous in the character of this great man's mind 
and manners. He never spoke, either of himself 
or others, in such a manner as to give the most 
malicious censurers the least occasion even to sus- 
pect him of vanity. He was candid and affable ; 
and he did not assume any airs of superiority over 
those with whom he associated. He never thought 
either his merit, or his reputation, sufficient to 
excuse him from any of the common offices of 
social life. Though he was firmly attached to the 
church of England, he was averse to the per- 
secution of the Non-conformists. He judged of 
men by their conduct : and the true schismatics, 
in his opinion, were the vicious and the wicked. 
This liberality of sentiment did not spring from 
the want of reh'gion ; for he was ihorouglily per- 



188 SIR ISAAC NEWTON 

suaded of the truth of Reveiation : ana anirasl 
the great variety of books, Avhich he had con- 
stantly before him, that which he loved the best, 
and studied with the greatest application, was the 
Bible. He was, indeed, a truly pious man : and 
his discoveries concerning the frame and system 
of the universe, were applied by him to demon- 
strate the being of a God, and to illustrate his 
power and wisdom. He also wrote an excellent 
discourse, to prove that the remarkable prophecy 
of Daniel's weeks, was an express prediction of 
the coming of the Messiah, and that it was fulfilled 
in Jesus Christ^ 

The testimony of the pious and learned Dr. 
Doddridge to the most interesting part of this 
great man's character, cannot be omitted on the 
present occasion. " According to the best infor- 
mation^" says he, ^^ whether public or private, I 
could ever obtain, his firm faith in the Divine Re- 
relation, discovered itself in the most genuine 
fruits of substantial virtue and piety ; and conse- 
quently gives us the justest reason to conclude^ 
that he is now rejoicing in the happy effects of it, 
infinitely more than all the applause which his 
philosophical v/orkshave procured him, though they 
have commanded a fame lasting as the world." 

o 

The disorder of which he died, was supposed 
to he the stone in the bladder; which was, at 



SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 189 

times, attended with paroxysms so severe as 
to occasion large drops of sweat to run down his 
face. In these trying circumstances, he was 
never heard to utter the least complaint, nor to 
express the least impatience. He died in the 
eighty-fifth year of his age. In his principles, 
and conduct through life, he has left a strong 
and comfortable evidence, that the highest intel- 
lectual powers harmonize with religion and virtue : 
and that there is nothing in Christianity but what 
will abide the scrutiny of the soundest and most 
enlarged understanding. 

How great and satisfactory a confirmation is it 
to the sincere, humble Christian, and what an 
insurmountable barrier does it present to the in- 
fidel, to perceive, in the list of Christian believers, 
the exalted and venerable names of Bacon, Boyle, 
Locke, Newton, Addison, Lyttelton, and Jones ! 
men who must be acknowledged to be ornaments 
of human nature, when we consider the wide 
compass of their abilities, the great extent of their 
learning and knowledge, and their piety, their zeal 
for truth, and their beneficence. These eminent 
characters firmly adhered to the belief of Christi- 
anity, after the most diligent and exact researches 
into the life of its Founder, the authenticity of its 
records, the completion of its prophecies, the sub- 
limity of its doctrines, the purity of its precepts, 
and the arguments of its adversaries. 



SECTION IV. 

BISHOP BURNET. 

Gilbert Burnet, bishop of Salisbury, was born 
at Edinburgh, in the year 1643. He was carefully 
educated by his father : and having a strong con- 
stitution and a prodigious memory, he applied 
himself closely to study, and acquired a great por- 
tion of learning and knowledge, which he seemed 
to have ready for all occasions. He travelled 
through France, Italy, and Holland ; where he 
formed connexions with many of the greatest per 
sons of his time, by w^hom he was much respected 
for his talents and virtues. At Amsterdam, he 
became acquainted with the leading men of the 
different persuasions tolerated in the United States, 
Calvinists, Arminians, Lutherans, Anabaptists, 
Brownists, Papists, and Unitarians ; among each 
of which, he used frequently to declare, he met 
with men of such unfeigned piety and virtue, that 
he became strongly fixed in a principle of universal 
charity, and an invincible abhorrence of all severi 
ties on account of religious opinions. 

He was instrumental in promoting the Revolu 
tion ; and lived in great favour with William and 
Mary, and Queen Anne. He distinguished him 
self in the house of lords, by declaring for mod 
erate measures, with regard to the clergy who 

190 



BISHOP BURNET. 191 

scrupled to take the oaths; and for a toleration 
of the Protestant dissenters. He composed many 
works, which evince his desire to promote the 
cause of piety and virtue. "The History of his 
own Time," and " The History of the Reforma- 
tion," have been much read ; and for the latter, he 
received the thanks of both houses of parliament 
His account of Lord Rochester, is an elegant and 
interesting performance ; and a striking display of 
the truth and excellence of the Christian religion. 

The last five or six years of his life, he became 
more abstracted from the world ; and he seems to 
have derived great advantage from the reflections 
which this leisure produced. The following sen- 
timents, solemnly expressed by him towards the 
conclusion of his days, are so illustrative of the 
nature and power of true religion, and of its influ- 
ence upon his own mind, that they claim a place 
in these memorials. 

'. " I shall conclude with recommendk^' 

to all sorts of men, in the most solemn and seri- 
ous manner, the study and practice of religion, 
as that which is the most important of all things, 
and which is both the light of the world, and the 
salt of the earth. 

" Nc.thing so opens our faculties and com- 
poses and directs the whole man, as an inward 



192 BISHOP BURNET, 

sense of God ; of his authority over us ; of ilie 
laws he has set us ; of his eye ever upon us ; of his 
hearing our prayers ; assisting our endeavours ; 
watching over our concerns ; of his being to 
judge, and reward or punish us in another state 
according to what we have done in this. Nothing 
will give us such a detestation of sin, and such a 
sense of the goodness of God, and of our obliga- 
tions to lioliness, as a right understanding and 
firm belief of the Christian religion. 

*' By living according to the rules of religion, a 
man becomes the wisest, the best, and the hap- 
piest creature that he is capable of being. Honest 
industry, the employing of time well, a constant 
sobriety, an undefiled purity and chastity, with 
continued serenity, are the best preservatives too 
of life and health : so that take a man as an indi- 
vidual, religion is his guard, his perfection, his 
beauty, and his glory. This Vvill make him a 
light in the world, shining briglitly, and enlighten- 
ing many round about him. 

'' Thus, religion, if truly received and sincerely 
adhered to, would prove the gi*eatest of all bles- 
sings to a nation. But, by religion, I understand 
something more than receiving particular doc- 
trines, though ever so true, or professing them, 
and engaging to support them, even with zeal and 
eagerness. What signify the best doctrines, if 



BISHOP BLRNET 193 

men do not live suitably to them; if they have not 
a due influence upon their thoughts and their lives ? 
Men of bad lives, with sound opinions, are self-con- 
demned, and lie under a highly-aggravated guilt. 

" By religion, I do not mean an outward com- 
pliance with forms and customs, in going to church, 
to prayers, to sermons, and to sacraments, with an 
external show of devotion ; or, which is more, with 
some inward forced good tlioughts, in which many 
satisfy themselves, while these have no visible 
effect on their lives, nor any inward force to con- 
trol and rectify their appetites, passions, and 
secret designs. These customary performances, 
liow good and useful soever when understood and 
rightly directed, are of Ihtle value when men rest 
on them, and think, because they do them, they 
have acquitted themselves of their duty, though 
tlicy still continue proud, covetous, full of deceit, 
envy, «ind malice. Even secret prayers, the most 
cfTectual means, are designed for a higher end ; 
which is, to possess our minds wuth such a constant 
and present sense of divine truths, as may make 
these live in us, and govern us, and draw down such 
assistance, as to exalt and sanctify our natures. 

*':So that, by religion, I mean such a sense of 
divine truth as enters into a man, and becomes 
the spring of a new nature within him ; reforming 
his flioughts and designs ; purifying his heart ; 

17 



194 BISHOP BURNET. 

sanctifying and governing his whole deportment, 
his words as well as his actions ; convincing him 
that it is not enough not to be scandalously vicious, 
or to be innocent in his conversation, but that 
he must be entirely, uniformly, and constantly, 
pure and virtuous, animated with zeal to be 
still better and better, more eminently good and 
exemplary. 

•' This is true religion, which is the perfection 
of human nature, and the joy and delight of 
every one that feels it active and strong within 
him. It is true, this is not arrived at all at once, 
and it will have an unhappy alloy, hanging long 
even about a good man, but, as those ill mix- 
tures are the perpetual grief of his soul, so that it 
is his chief care to watch over and to mortify 
them, he will be in a continual progress, still 
gaining ground upon himself; and as he attains 
to a degree of purity, he will find a nobler flame 
of life and joy growing up in him. Of this I 
write with a greater concern and emotion, be- 
cause I have felt it to be the true, and, indeed, the 
only joy which runs through a man's heart and 
Hfe. It is this which has been, for many years, 
my greatest support. I rejoice daily in it. I 
feel from it the earnest of that supreme joy 
which I want and long for ; and I am sure there 
is nothing else which can afford any true and com- 
plete happiness." 



SECTION V. 



LORD ROCHESTER. 



John Wilmot, afterwards earl of Rochester, 
was born in 1647, at Ditchley, in Oxfordshire. 
After his education was completed, he travelled 
into France and Italy ; and, at his return, devoted 
himself to the court, and was in great favour with 
Charles the Second. He had very early an incli- 
nation to intemperance, which he seemed to have 
totally subdued in his travels; but afterwards 
falling into dissolute and vicious company, he 
gave way to his former propensity ; and became 
corrupt in his principles, and depraved in his 
manners. He lost all sense of religious restraint ; 
and, finding it not convenient to admit the author- 
ity of laws which he was resolved not to obey, 
sheltered his wickedness behind infidelity. 

As he excelled in that noisy and licentious 
merriment which wine excites, his companions 
eagerly encouraged him in excess, and he wil- 
lingly indulged it; till, as he confessed to Dr. 
Burnet, he was for five years together so much 
inflamed by frequent ebriety, as in no interval to 
be master of himself. 

106 



196 LORD ROCHESTER. 

Thus, in a course of drunken gayely, and gross 
sensuality, with seasons of study perhaps yet 
more criminal, with an avowed contempt of all 
decency and order, a total disregard to every mora! 
and a resolute denial of every religious obligation 
he lived worthless and useless, and blazed out his 
youth and his health in lavish voluptuousness ; 
till, at the age of one-and-thirty, he had nearly 
exhausted the fund of life, and had reduced him- 
self to a state of weakness and decay. 

At this time he was led to an acquaintance with 
Dr. Burnet, to whom he laid open with great 
freedom the tenour of his opinions, and the course 
of his life ; and from whom he received such con- 
viction of the reasonableness of moral duty, and 
the truth of Christianity, as, by the Divine bles 
sing, produced a total change both of his manners 
and opinions. Some philosophers of the present 
age will probably suppose, that his contrition and 
conviction were purely the effects of weakness 
and low spirits, which scarcely suffer a man to 
continue in his senses, and certainly not to be 
master of himself: but Dr. Burnet affirms, that 
he was " under no such decay as either darken- 
ed or weakened his understanding ; nor troubled 
with the spleen or vapours, or under the power of 
melancholy." In proof of this assertion, the follow- 
ing letter is produced ; in which nothing is omitted 
but some personal compliments to the Doctor : — 



LORD ROCHESTER. 197 

" Woodstock-Parky Oxfoi^dshire, 
" My most honoured Dr. Burnet, 

" My spirits and body decay equally together : 
but weak as I am in person, I shall write you a 
letter. — If God be yet pleased to spare me longer 
in this world, I hope, by your conversation, to 
be exalted to such a degree of piety, that the 
world may see how much I abhor what I so long 
loved, and how much I glory in repentance, and 
in God's service. Bestow your prayers upon me, 
that God would spare me, if it be his good will, 
to show a true repentance and amendment of life 
for the time to come ; or else, if the Lord please 
soon to put an end to my worldly being, that he 
would mercifully accept of ray death-bed repent- 
ance ; and perform that promise he has been 
pleased to make, that at what time soever a sin- 
ner doth repent, he would receive him. Put up 
these prayers, most dear doctor, to Almighty 

God, for your most obedient, languishing ser- 
vant, 

" Rochester. 
''June 25, 16S0." 

Soon after the receipt of this letter. Dr. Bur- 
net visited him. Lord Rochester expressed to 
him in strong terms, the sense he had of his past 
life ; his sad apprehension for having so offended 
his Maker and dishonoured his Redeemer ; tlie 



198 LORD ROCHESTER. 

horrors he had gone through ; the sincerity of his 
repentance; and the earnestness with which his 
mind was turned to call on God, and on his cruci- 
fied Saviour, to have mercy upon him. 

Discoursing one day of the manner of his life 
from his youth, and bitterly upbraiding himselt 
for his manifold transgressions, he exclaimed, 
" blessed God ! can such a horrid creature as I 
am, who have denied thy being, and contemned 
thy power, be accepted by thee ? — Can there be 
mercy and pardon for me ? Will God own such a 
wretch as I am ?" — About the middle of his sick- 
ness, he said : '' Shall the unspeakable joys of 
heaven be conferred on me ? mighty Saviour ! 
never, but through thy infinite love and satis 
faction ! never, but by the purchase of thy 
blood !" 

From the first of his yielding assent to the 
truths of the Christian religion, his faith seemed 
sincere and fervent. He highly reprobated " that 
foolish and absurd philosoph)?-, propagated by the 
late Hobbes and others, which the world so much 
admired, and which had undone him, and many 
persons of the best parts in the nation.'' His hope 
of salvation rested solely on the free grace of 
God, through Jesus Christ. He often prayed that 
his faith might be strengthened, and cried out : 
" Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief." 



LORD ROCHESTER. 190 

He expressed great esteem for the Holy Scrip- 
tures, and resolved that if God should spare him, 
he would frequently read them, and meditate upon 
them : " for, having spoken to his heart, he ac- 
knowledged that all the seeming absurdities and 
contradictions, Avhich men of corrupt and repro- 
bate judgment supposed to be in them, were van- 
ished : and now that he loved and received the 
truth, their beauty and excellence appeared." 

He frequently implored God's Holy Spirit, to 
comfort and support him, to preserve him from 
wicked thoughts and suggestions, and from every 
tiling prejudicial to that religious temper of mind 
with which he was now so happily endued. One 
night having been much disturbed by evil imagi- 
nations, " I thank God," said he, " I abhor 
them all. By the power of his grace, which I 
am sure is sufficient for me, I have overcome 
them. It is the malice of the devil, because I 
am rescued from him, that thus troubles me ; but 
the goodness of God frees me from all my spir- 
itual enemies." 

He often called for his children, and spoke to 
ihcm with a warmth of feeling that can scarcely 
be described. " See," said he to Dr. Burnet, 
" how good God has been to me, in giving me 
so many blessings ! and yet I have been a most 
ungracious and unthankful creature !" He ex- 



200 LORD ROCHESTER. 

pressed much concern for the pious education of 
his children ; and " wished his son might never 
be a wit ; one of those wretched creatures," as 
he explained it, " who pride themselves in deny- 
ing the being or the providence of God, and in 
ridiculing religion ; but that he might become an 
honest and a pious man, by w^hich means only he 
could be the support and blessing of his family." 

He gave a strict charge to the persons in whose 
custody his papers were, to burn all his obscene 
and filthy pictures, which were so notoriously 
scandalous; and all his profane and lewd wri 
tings, by which he had so highly offended, and 
shamed, and blasphemed, that holy religion into 
which he had been baptized. 

He was ready to make restitution, to the ut- 
most of his power, to all persons whom he had 
injured ; and heartily forgave all the wrongs 
which he had sustained, hoping that he should 
meet with the like free forgiveness from God. 

He expressed a tender concern for his servants, 
and those w^ho attended him ; and earnestly ex- 
horted them to love and fear God. To a gentle- 
man of some character, who came to see him on 
his death-bed, he said : " remember that you 
contemn God no more. He is an avenging God, 
and will visit you for your sins ; and will, I hope, 



LORD ROCHESTER. 201 

in mercy, touch your conscience, sooner or later, 
as he has done mine. You and I have been 
friends and sinners together a great while, and 
therefore I am the more free with you. We 
have been all mistaken^ in our conceits and 
opinions ; our persuasions have been false and 
groundless ; therefore God grant you repent- 
ance." And seeing the same gentleman the next 
day, he said '^ Perhaps you were disobliged by 
my plainness with you yesterday. I spoke the 
words of truth and soberness :" and striking his 
hand upon his breast, he added, '^I hope God 
will touch your heart." 

He was very desirous to testify to the world his 
repentance for his past misconduct; and to make 
every reparation in his power for the mischiefs, 
which, by his example and writings, he had oc- 
casioned. He sent messages, which w^ell became 
a dying penitent, to some of his former friends. 
He strictly enjoined the pious persons who at- 
tended him during his last sickness, to publish 
any thing concerning him that might be a means to 
reclaim others ; praying to God, that, as his life had 
done much hurt, so his death mio-ht do some ffood. 
He caused the following solemn declaration to be 
drawn up, which he signed with his own hand : — 

*'For the benefit of all those whom T may 
have drawn into sin, by niy example and cncour- 



202 LORD ROCHESTER. 

cigement, I leave to the world this my last decla 
ration, which I deliver in the presence of the 
GREAT God, who knows the secrets of all hearts, 
and before whom I am preparing to be judged ; 
that, from the bottom of my sonl, I detest and 
abhor the whole course of my former wicked 
-life ; that I think I can never sufficiently admire 
the goodness of God, who has given me a true 
sense of my pernicious opinions, and vile prac- 
tices ; by which I have hitherto lived, without 
liope, and without God in the world ; have been 
an open enemy to Jesus Christ, doing the ut- 
most despite to the holy Spirit of Grace ; and 
that the greatest testimony of my charity to such 
is, to warn them in the name of God, and as 
they regard the welfare of their immortal souls, 
no more to deny his being or his providence, or 
despise his goodness ; no more to make a mock 
of sin, or contemn the pure and excellent religion 
of my ever-blessed Redeemer, through whose 
merits alone, I, one of the greatest of sinners, do 
yet hope for mercy and forgiveness. Amen. 

"J. Rochester. 
" Declared and signed in the presence of 

"Ann Rochester. 

** Robert Parsons." 

His sufferings were, at times, very great ; but 
he did not repine under them. In one of his 
sharpest fits of pain, looking up to heaven, he 



LORD ROCHESTER. 203 

said : " God's holy will be done. I bless him for 
all he does to me." 

He expressed his willingness to live, or to die, as 
it should please Divine Providence. "If," said 
he, " God should spare me yet a little longer time 
here, I hope to bring glory to his name, propor- 
tionable to the dishonour I have done him, in my 
whole life past : and particularly, by endeavours to 
convince others of the danger of their condition, 
if they continue impenitent ; and by telling them 
how graciously God has dealt with me." 

Near the close of life, he was often heard to 
pray fervently. He rejoiced in the comfortable 
persuasion of acceptance with God. A few days 
before his decease, he said; "I shall now die 
But 0, what unspeakable glories do I see ! What 
joys, beyond thought or expression, am I sensible 
of! I am assured of God's mercy to me, througli 
Jesus Christ. O ! how I long to die, and to be 
with my Saviour !" 

Thus died, in the thirty-third year of his age, 
the celebrated earl of Rochester; a memorable 
instance of the goodness and mercy of God, and 
of the power of his grace, to purify and redeem 
the most corrupt and obdurate offender. From 
this case, and from many other instances, tlie 
truly penitent sinner, tliough his sins have been 



204 LORD ROCHESTER. 

as scarlet or as crimson, may derive hope that 
God will, even in his greatest extremity, hear 
his prayers, and accept his repentance : but none 
should presume on the Divine Mercy, by defer- 
ring their amendment till they are brought to the 
bed of sickness and death. They may suddenly 
be taken away ; they may not have their under- 
standing in the time of illness ; they may be de- 
ceived with false hopes of recovery ; their pains 
of body may not admit of that state of mind 
which is proper for the great work of repentance ; 
or, they may have become so hardened by the 
habits of sin, that they may die, as many have 
died, without a proper sense of their condition. 
May the goodness and forbearance of God lead to 
repentance and amendment of life, in the time of 
health ! We shall then, at the approach of death, 
have no guilty tumults of mind ; no dismal fore- 
bodinos of the future. We shall bear oiu: affile- 
tion with patience and resignation : and, with joy 
ful hope, commit our spirits into the hands of a 
faithful and merciful Creator. 

For a further account of Lord Rochester, we 
refer the reader to a small volume published by 
Dr. Burnet, entitled, " Some Passages of the Life 
and Death of John, Earl of Rochester ;" " a book, 
which," as Dr. Johnson says, " the critic ought to 
read for its elegance, the philosopher for its argu 
ments, and the saint for its piety." 



CHAPTER VII. 

Q,ueen Mary — Herman Boerhaave — Joseph Addison — 
Ann Baynard — Elizabeth Rowe — Doctor Watts, 



SECTION I. 
aUEEN MARY. 

Mart, queen of Great Britain, and consort of 
King William the Third, was the daughter of 
James the Second, and was born in the year 1661. 
She appeared to be happily disposed from very 
early life, being good and gentle before slie was 
capable of knowing that it was her duty to be so. 
This temper continued with her through the whole 
progress of her childhood. She might need in- 
struction, but she wanted no persuasion. And it 
is said, that she never once, in the whole course 
of her education, gave occasion for reproof. Be- 
sides a most amiable sweetness of temper, she 
possessed great understanding, and a mind cultiva- 
ted with useful learning and knowledge. 

She was married 'in the sixteenth year of her 
Cge, to tlie prince of Orange, and went to reside 

18 205 



206 QUEEN MARY. 

in Holland, where she conducted herself with so 
much w^isdom and goodness, as to gain universal 
esteem and affection. But that wdiich was, beyond 
all comparison, her greatest ornament and pos- 
session, was a truly devout and religious temper, 
vchich made her look with indifference on the 
honours and splendour v/ith which she w^as sur- 
rounded ; and seek for her highest enjoyment, 
in doing good, in peace of rnind, aud in the hope 
of a better life. 

In proof of her uncommon merit, w^e shall here 
insert a short declaration concerning her, made 
by her husband, King William, wdiom she len- 
derly loved, and who best knew her excellence, 
and his own great loss in being deprived of her. 
To Doctor Tenison, who endeavoured to comfoit 
him after her death, he observed : *' I cannot but 
grieve, since I have lost a wife, who in seventeen 
years, never was guilty- of an indiscretion. During 
the whole course of our marriage, I never per- 
ceived the least fault in her. She possessed a 
worth that nobody thorouglily knew but myself." 

In the character of Lady Russel, we have seen 
the power and operation of religion on the mind, 
under some of the darkest clouds of affliction and 
distress : in the present instance of Queen Mary, 
the virtue and preserving tiature of the same 
divini3 principle, is evidenced amidst the raagni* 



QUEEN MARY. 207 

ficence of i court, and the sunshine of worldly 
prosperity It is, indeed, a principle of universal 
agency ; adapted to all ranks of men, and to 
every allotment of Providence ; a sure preserva- 
tive when things are smiling around us, and a 
sovereign remedy for, or support under, all the 
calamities of life. 

This good queen spent a great part of her 
lime, in perusing the Holy Scriptures, and other 
religious books. By a letter to her father, writ- 
ten in early hfe, in support of the Protestant faith, 
she appears to have been thoroughly grounded 
and established in tlie principles of the Reforma- 
tion. Bishop Burnet says, that ** although he 
had a high opinion of the princess's good under- 
standing, before he saw this letter, j^et the letter 
surprised him, and gave him an astonishing joy, 
to see so young a person, all on a sudden, with- 
out consulting any one, able to write in so solid 
and learned a manner." 

Her talents and abilities were very conspicuous 
in all her concerns, aiKi particularly, in the im- 
portant charge of government. Doctor Tillotson, 
archbishop of Canterbury, said, that " he was in 
grent admiration at the proofs he knew the queen 
gave of her knowledge, in the weighty affairs of 
state, in the king's absence, when the excculive 
pait of the government was in her hands." 



208 QUEEN MARY. 

Her compassion and bounty to the poor and 
afflicted, and those who stood in need of her lib- 
erality, were very eminent, and such as corre- 
sponded with her exalted station, and the abun 
dant sources of relief to which she had access 
She took care to have a just account both of the 
worthiness, and the necessities, of those who were 
candidates for her liberality ; and, in the con- 
ducting of her charity, showed as much exact- 
ness, attention and diligence, as if she had no 
cares of a higher nature. But what crowned 
all, was her exact conformity to the rule of the 
Gospel in her mvmificence : for none knew to 
whom, or what she gave, but those whom she 
was obliged to employ in the communication of 
her bounty. 

The piety of this excellent person, was a noble 
support to her under the troubles of life : yet 
there were some distresses to which it gave a 
sharper edge. The impieties and blasphemies, 
the open contempt of religion, and the scorn of 
virtue, which she heard of from many persons, 
and from many different parts of the nation, gave 
her a secret horror; and presented her with so 
gloomy a prospect, as filled her mind with melan- 
choly reflections. She was very sensibly touched, 
when she heard that som.e, who pretended to 
much zeal for the crown -and the revolution, 
seemed thence to think they had a sort of right 



QUEEN MARY. 209 

to be indulged in their licentiousness, and irregu- 
larities. She often said, " Can a blessing be ex- 
pected from such hands, or on any thing that must 
pass through them ?" 

She had a just esteem for all persons whom she 
thought truly religious and virtuous ; and no other 
considerations were much regarded by her, when 
these excellencies were not to be found. Next 
to open impiety, the want of life in those who 
pretended to religion, and the deadness and dis- 
union of the Protestants in general, very much 
affected her; and she often said, with poignant 
regret : " Can such dry bones live ?" 

So far was she from entertaining a high opinion 
of herself, that she had a tender sense of any 
thing that looked like a miscarriage under her 
conduct ; and was afraid lest some mistake of hers 
might have occasioned it. When difficulties 
grew too great to be surmounted, and she felt 
uneasy under them, she made God her refuge ; 
and often said, that " she found herself tranquil, 
after she had poured forth her soul in prayer." 
When melancholy events came from the hand of 
Providence, she said, that "though there was no 
occasion for complaint or anger, upon these cross 
occurrences, yet there was just cause of grief, 
since God's hand was to be seen so particularly 
in them." 

18* 



210 QUEEN MARY. 

In her brightest seasons, she did not suffer her 
self to be lulled into security, nor did she with 
draw her dependance upon God. In the pleas 
ures of life, she maintained a true indifference ^ 
to their continuance ; and seemed to think o\ 
parting with them, in so easy a manner, as plainly 
showed how little possession they had of her 
heart. 

At one period of her life, she felt such indispo- 
sition of body, as induced her to believe that 
some gi'eat sickness was approaching : but, on 
this occasion, she possessed great quietude and 
resignation ; and said, " that though she did not 
pray for death, yet she could neither wish nor 
pray against it. She left that to God, and re- 
ferred herself to the disposal cf Providence. — 
If she did not wish for death, yet she did not 
fear it." 

As this was the state of her mind, when she 
viewed that event at some distance, so she main- 
tained the same composure, on its near approach. 
The end of this extraordinary queen was, indeed, 
such as might have been expected, from the pure 
and exemplary life she had lived. When she 
was first informed of the danger to be appre- 
hended from her disorder, (which was the small- 
pox,) she calmly said : " I have been instructed 
how very hazardous a thing it is, to r jly upon a 



QUEEN MARY. 211 

(lealh-bed repentance : I am not now to begin the 
great work of preparing for death ; and, I praise 
God, I am not afraid of it." Under the weiglit 
of her disorder, which was very trying to nature, 
she appeared to feel no inward depression or dis- 
couragement of mind. A wiUingness to die, and 
an entire resignation to the will of God, accom- 
panied her to the closing scene ; in the near ap- 
proach of which she declared, that " she experi- 
enced the joys of a good conscience, and the pow- 
er of religion giving her supports, which even 
the last agonies could not shake." Thus died this 
most excellent princess ; and, no doubt, passed 
from an earthly to a heavenly crown, " a crown 
of glory that shall never fade awa3^" 

The contemplation of so peaceful and happy 
conclusions of life, as tliis, and others which are 
mentioned in the present work, is sufficient, 
at times, to elevate the soul, and to make all 
the glories and enjoyments of this transient scene, 
sink into nothing. Ah ! these arc favoured, pre- 
cious moments, when the Divine Powxr of Re- 
ligion breaks in upon us, dissolves the enchant- 
ment of the w'orld, dissipates the mist of vain 
doubts and specuhition, and raises a fervent aspira- 
tion, that whatever may be om* allotment through 
life, we may die ilie death of the righteous, and 
the love of God be oiu- portion for ever ! 



SECTION li. 



BOERHAAVE. 



Herman Boerhaave, one of the greatest ph}'- 
sicians, and best of men, was born in Holland, in 
the year 1668. This illustrious person, whose 
name has been spread throughout the world, and 
who left at his death above two hundred thousand 
pounds sterling, was, at his first setting out in life, 
obliged to teach the mathematics to obtain a ne- 
cessary support. His abilities, industry, and great 
merit, soon gained him friends, placed him in easy 
circumstances^ and enabled him to be bountiful to 
others. 

The knowledge and learning of this great man, 
however uncommon, hold, in his character, but 
the second place ; his virtue was yet much more 
mncommon than his literary attainments. He was 
an admirable example of temperance, fortitude, 
humility, and devotion. His piety, and profound 
sense of his dependance on God, were the basis of 
all his virtues, and the principle of bis whole 
conduct. He was too sensible of his weakness to 
ascribe any thing to himself, or to conceive that 
he could subdue passion, or withstand temptation, 
by his own natural power: he attributed every 
good thought and every laudable action to the Fa- 
ther of Goodness. Being once asked by a friend, 

212 



BOERHAAVE. 213 

who had often admired his patience under great 
provocations, whether he had ever been under the 
influence of anger, and by what nieans he had so 
entirely suppressed that impetuous and ungovern- 
able passion ; he answered, with the utmost frank- 
ness and sincerity, that he was naturally quick of 
resentment, but that he had, by daily prayer and 
meditation, at length attained to this mastery over 
himself. 

As soon as he rose in the morning, it was, 
through life, his daily practice, to retire for an 
hour for private prayer and meditation. This, he 
often told his friends, gave him spirit and vigour 
in the business of the day ; and this he therefore 
commended as the best rule of life : for nothing, he 
knew, can support the soul in all distresses, but 
confidence in the Supreme Being; nor can a steady 
and rational magnanimity flow from any other 
source than a consciousness of the Divine favour. 

He asserted, on all occasions, the Divine author- 
ity of the Holy Scriptures. The excellence of the 
Christian religion was the frequent subject of his 
conversation. A strict obedience to the doctrine, 
and a diHgent imitation of the example, of our 
blessed Saviour, he often declared to be the found- 
ation of true tranquillity. He was liberal to the 
distressed, but without ostentation. He often 
obliged his friends in such a manner, that tliey 



214 BOExlIIAAVE. 

knew not, unless by accident, to whom they were 
indebted. He was condescendmg to all, and par- 
ticularly attentive in his profession. He used to 
say, that the life of a patient, if trifled with or neg- 
lected, would one day be required at the hand 
of the physician. He called the poor his best pa- 
tients : for God, said he, is then' paymaster. In 
conversation, he was cheerful and instructive ; and 
desirous of promoting every valuable end of social 
intercourse. He never regarded calumny and 
detraction ; (for Boerhaave himself had enemies ;) 
nor ever thought it necessary to confute them. 
" They are sparks," said he, " which if you do 
not blow them, will go out of themselves. The 
surest remedy against scandal, is, to live it down 
Dy perseverance in well-doing ; and by praying to 
God, that he would cure the distempered minds 
of those who traduce and injure us." 

About the middle of the year 1737, he felt the 
first approaches of that lingering disorder, which 
at length brought him to the grave. During this 
afflictive illness, his constancy and firmness did 
not forsake him. He neither intermitted the ne- 
cessary cares of hfe, nor forgot the proper prepa- 
rations for death. 

He related to a friend, with great concern, that 
once his patience so far gave way to extremity 
of pain, that, after having lain fifteen hours in 



BOERIIAAVE. £15 

exquisite tortures, he prayed to God that he might 
be set free by death. His friend, by way of con- 
solation, answered, that he thought such wishes, 
when forced by continued and excessive torments, 
unavoidable in the present state of human nature ; 
that the best men, even Job himself, were not 
able to refrain from such starts of impatience. 
This he did not deny, but said, ** He that loves 
God, ought to think nothing desirable but what 
is most pleasmg to the Supreme Goodness." 

Such were his sentiments, and such his conduct, 
in this state of weakness and pain. As death 
advanced nearer, he was so far from terror or 
confusion, that he seemed even less sensible of 
pain, and more cheerful under his torments. He 
died, much honoured and lamented, in the 70th 
year of his age. 

In contemplating the character of this excel- 
lent man, what strikes us most is, that far from 
being made impious by philosophy, or vain by 
knowledge or by virtue, he ascribed all his abili- 
ties to the bounty, and all his goodness to the grace, 
of God. " May his example," says Dr. John- 
son, his biographer, ^' extend its influence to his 
admirers and followers ! May those who study 
his writings, imitate his life ; and those who 
endeavour after his knowledf^'c, aspire likewise 
10 his piety !" 



SECTION in. 

JOSEPH ADDISON. 

Joseph Addisox, a celebrated English v.Titex, 
was born at Milston, in Wiltshire, in the year 
1672. About the age of fifteen, he was entered 
at Queen's college, Oxford, where, by his fine 
parts and great application, he made a surprising 
proficiency in classical learning. Before he left 
llie university, he was warmly solicited to enter 
into orders ; and he once resolved to do so : but 
his great modesty, and an uncommonly delicate 
sense of the importance of the sacred function, 
made him afterwards alter liis resolution. He was 
highly respected by many of the greatest, and the 
most learned of his contemporaries. He travelled 
into Italy, where he made many useful observa- 
tions, and prepared materials for some of his lite 
rary works. On his return to England, he was 
chosen one of the lords commissioners for trade 
In 1709, he was appointed secretary to the lord 
lieutenant of Ireland: and in 1717, w^as advanced 
to the high oiSce of secretarj^ of state. 

His writings have been of great use to the world ; 
and his " Evidences of the Christian Religion/' 
not tlie least so. Dr. Johnson, in delineating his 

2)6 



JOSEPH ADDISON. 217 

character, as a writer, gives the following amiable 
picture of him : " He employed wit on the side 
of virtue and religion. Ke not only made the 
proper use of w^it himself, but taught it to others ; 
and, from his time, it has been generally sub- 
servient to the cause of reason and truth. He has 
dissipated the prejudice that had long connected 
cheerfulness with vice, and easiness of manners 
with laxity of principles. He has restored virtue 
to its dignity, and taught innocence not to be 
ashamed. This is an elevation of literary charac 
ler, above all Greek, above all Roman, fame. 
As a teacher of wisdom, he may be confidently 
followed. His religion has nothing in it enthusi- 
astic or superstitious ; he appears neither weakly 
credulous, nor wantonly skeptical ; his morality is 
neither dangerously lax, nor impracticably rigid. 
All the enchantment of fancy, and all the cogency 
of argument are employed to recommend to the 
reader his real interest, the care of pleasing the 
Author of his being." 

Of his integrity in discharging the duties of his 
office, there is a striking proof recorded. When 
he was secretary in Ireland, he had materially 
promoted the interest of an individual, who offered 
him, in return, a bank note of three hundred 
pounds, and a diamond ring of the same value. 
These he strenuously refused to accept : and wrote 
to the person as follows : — " And now, sir, believe 
19 



218 JOSEPH ADDISON. 

me, when I assure you, I never did, nor ever will, 
on any pretence whatsoever, take more than the 
stated and customary fees of my office. I might 
keep the contrary practice concealed from the 
v^^orld, were I capable of it ; but I could not from 
myself! and I hope I shall always fear the re- 
proaches of my own heart more than those of all 
mankind." 

A mind conscious of its own uprightness, and 
humbly trusting in the goodness of God, has the 
best ground to look forward with complacency 
towards another life. The following lines of 
Addison are sweetly expressive of the peace and 
pleasure which he enjoyed, in contemplating his 
future existence : — " The prospect of a future 
state is the secret comfort and refreshment of my 
soul. It is that which makes nature look cheerful 
about me ; it doubles all my pleasures, and sup- 
ports me under all my afflictions. I can look at 
disappointments and misfortunes, pain and sick- 
ness, death itself, with indifference, so long as I 
keep in view the pleasures of eternity, and the 
state of being in which there will be no fears nor 
apprehensions, pains or sorrows." 

The virtue of this excellent man shone brightest 
at the point of death. After a long and manly, 
but vain struggle with his distempers, he dismissed 
his physicians, and with them all hopes of life ; but 



JOSEPH ADDISON. 219 

with his hopes of life he dismissed not his concern 
for the hving. He sent for Lord Warwick, a 
youth, nearly related to him, and finely accom- 
plished, but irregular in conduct and principle ; 
on whom his pious instructions and example had 
not produced the desired effect. Lord Warwick 
came : but life now glimmering in ihe socket, the 
dymg friend was silent. After a decent and pro- 
per pause, the youth said : " Dear sir ! you sent 
for me : I believe, and hope you have some com 
mands : 1 shall hold them most dear." — May the 
reader not only feel the reply, but retain its im- 
pression ! Forcibly grasping the youth's hand, 
Addison softly said : " See in wliat peace a 
Christian can die!" — He spoke with difficulty, 
and soon expired. Through divine grace, how 
great is mian ! Through divine mercy, how sting- 
less death ! 



SECTION IV. 
ANN BAYNARD. 

Ann Baynard was descended from an ancient 
and respectable family, and was born in the 
year 1672. She possessed strong powers of 
mind ; understood the learned languages ; and 
made considerable acquisitions in the arts and 
sciences. She took great delight in study, and 
seemed to know no bounds in the pursuit of 
learning and knowledge. But when she formed 
a serious estimate of things, and compared the 
highest accomplishments of this hfe, with the 
possession of Divine Peace, and the hope of eter 
nal happiness, her extreme love of learning, and 
of the distinctions that accompany it, abated. 
She then declared, that " she counted all things 
but loss, in comparison of the excellence of the 
knowledge of Christ Jesus her Lord ; and that 
human learning is worth but little, unless it 
serve as a handmaid to the knowledge of Christ 
revealed in the Gospel, as our only Lord and 
Saviour," "What avails," said she, "Solomon's 
skill in the works of nature, if by it we are not 
brought to see the God of nature ? What advan- 
tage is it to be so learned in astronomy, or the 
knowledge of the heavens, that we can foretel 

220 



ASS BAYNARD. 221 

things lo come, if we never study, by our holy 
practice, to arrive at the blessed regions ? What 
advantage is it, to be so skilful in arithmetic, that 
we can divide and subdivide to tlie smallest 
fraction, if, as God has revealed unto us in his 
holy word, we do not learn to number our days, 
and apply our hearts to wisdom ? What advantage 
is it, for a physician to know how to prevent or 
cure the disease of the body, if he knows not 
where to find the balm of Gilead, the wine and 
oil of the good Samaritan, the Lord Jesus Christy 
to pour into the wounds of his own soul ?'^ 

The mind of this excellent woman was much 
raised above the vanities of this world, its gayeties 
and splendour. Having experienced the happi- 
ness of a devout and pious life, she had no 
relish for pleasures of a different nature. She 
had a high veneration for the Author of her 
being, and made it her great business to promote 
his honour and glory. She observed, with deep 
concern, the errors, follies, and vices of the age ; 
and was not only importunate in her intercessions 
for the good of the world, but solicitous to benefit 
the souls of those with whom she conversed, by 
friendly reproof, good coimsel, or pious discourse. 
But the period of her life and labours was of 
short duration ; for she was only twenty-five 
years of age when she died. 

19» 



SECTION V. 
ELIZABETH ROWE. 

Elizabeth Rowe, the daughter of a very re- 
spectable dissenting minister, was born at Ilches- 
ter, in Somersetshire, in the year 1674. She dis- 
covered early symptoms of fine parts ; and as her 
strongest bent was to poetry, she began to write 
verses at twelve years of age. She possessed un- 
common elegance of mind, and exquisite sensi- 
bility. She also manifested a pious and devout 
disposition, even when she was very young. It 
was a peculiar happiness to her, that, early in life, 
she enjoyed the friendship of the pious Bishop 
Ken ; at whose request she wrote a para- 
phrase on the 38th chapter of Job. 

Her shining merit, and various accomplish- 
ments, procured her many admirers : bat the 
person who obtained her m marriage, was Thomas 
Rowc, a gentleman of uncommon parts and learn- 
ing, and of great w^orlh. The connexion proved 
happy, but was of short duration. The husband 
of this excellent woman died of a consumption at 
twenty-eight years of age, having lived with his 
amiable consort scarcely five years. The elegy 
which she composed upon his death, is one of her 
best poems. 

222 



ELIZABETH ROWE. 223 

After the decease of her husband, the world 
appeared in her view with less attraction than 
ever. She retired to her estate at Frome, v/here 
she spent the remainder of her days. In this re- 
treat, the religious temper of her mind increased ; 
and here she wrote the greater part of her works. 
Her book entitled, "Devout Exercises of the 
Heart, in Meditation and Solilocjuy, Praise and 
Prayer," has been much read and commended. 
This work she sealed up, and directed it to be 
delivered to Dr. Watts, after her decease ; with 
a letter to him, in which she gives some account 
both of the work and of herself. The letter 
contains so much of a devout and Christian 
Spirit, that we shall insert a part of it in this col- 
lection. 

" The * Reflections' were occasionally written, 
and only for my own improvement ; but I am not 
without hope that they may have the same salu- 
tary effect on some pious minds, as reading the 
experience of others has had on my own soul. 
The experimental part of religion has generally 
a greater influence than the theory of it; and if, 
when 1 am sleeping in the dust, these solilo- 
quies should kmdle a flame of divine love, even 
in tlie heart of the lowest and most despised 
Christian, be the glory given to the great Spring 
of all grace and benignity !" 



224 ELIZABETH ROV/E. 

" I have now done with mortal things, and all 
to come is vast eternity ! — Eternity ! how trans- 
porting is the sound ! As long as God exists, my 
being and happiness are, I doubt not, secure. 
These unbounded desires, which the wide creation 
cannot limit, shall be satisfied for ever. I shall 
drink at the fountain-head of pleasure, and be 
refreshed with the emanations of original life and 
jo3^ I shall hear the voice of uncreated har- 
mony, speaking peace and ineffable consolation 
to my soul. 

" I expect eternal life, not as a reward of merit, 
but as a pure act of bounty. Detesting myself 
in every view I can take, I fly to the righteous- 
ness and atonement of my great Redeemer, for 
pardon and salvation : this is my only consolation 
and hope. Enter not into judgment, O Lord, 
with thy servant ; for in thy sight shall no flesh 
be justified. Through the blood of the Lamb, I 
hope for an entire victory over the last enemy ; 
and that, before this comes to you, I shall have 
reached the celestial heights ; and, while you 
are reading these lines, I shall be adoring be- 
fore the throne of God; where faith shall be 
turned into vision, and these languishing desires 
satisfied with the full fruition of immortal love. 
Amen." 



m 



SECTION VI. 
DOCTOR WATTS. 

Isaac Watts, a learned and eminent dissent- 
ing minister, was born at Southampton, in the 
year 1674, of parents who were distinguished by 
their piety and virtue. He possessed uncom- 
mon genius, and gave early proofs of it. He re- 
ceived a very liberal education, which was ren- 
dered highly beneficial to him, by his own un- 
wearied efforts to improve himself. After the 
most serious deliberation, he determined to de- 
vote his life to the ministry ; of the importance of 
which office he had a deep and awful sense. He 
laboured very diligently to promote the instruc- 
tion and happiness of the people under his care : 
and, by his Christian conduct and amiable dispo- 
"sition, greatly endeared himself to them. 

Soon after he had undertaken the pastoral 
office, his health sustained a severe shock, by a 
painful and dangerous illness ; from which he re- 
covered very slowly. But in the year 1712, he 
was afflicted with a violent fever, that entirely 
broke his constitution, and left such weakness 
upon his nerves as continued with him, in some 
measure, to the day of his death. For four years, 
•he was wholly prevented from discharging the 

225 



226 DOCTOR WATTS. 

public ofSces of hiy station. Thongli this long in- 
terval of sickness was, no doubt, very trying to his 
active mind, yet it proved ultimately a blessing : 
for it drew upon him the particular notice of 
Sir Thomas Abney, a very pious and worthy man, 
who, from motives of friendship, invited him into 
his family : in which he continued to the end of 
his life ; and, for the long space of thirty-six 
years, was treated with uniform kindness, atten- 
tion, and respect. 

Dr. Johnson's judicious account of Watts, ex- 
hibits him, both as a man and a writer, in a very 
pleasing light. We shall select from it a few 
striking passages :— 

" This excellent man was, by his natural tem- 
per, quick of resentment ; but, by his established 
and habitual practice, he was gentle, modest, 
and inoffensive. His tenderness appeared in his 
attention to children, and to the poor. To the 
poor, while he lived in the family of his friend, 
he allowed the third part of his annuai revenue ; 
and for children, he condescended to lay aside 
the scholar, the philosopher, and the wit, to 
WTite little poems of devotion, and systems of 
instruction, adapted to their wants and capacities, 
from the dawn of reason through its gradations of 
advance in the mornino; of life. — Few men have 
left behind them such purity of character, or 



DOCTOR WATTS. 227 

such monuments of laborious piet3^ He has pro- 
vided inslruction for all ages, from those who are 
lisping their first lessons, to the enlightened readers 
of Malbranche and Locke. — His '' Improvement 
of the Mind," is a work in the highest degree 
useful and pleasing. — Whatever he took in hand 
was, by his incessant sohcitude for souls, convert- 
ed to theology. As piety predominated in his 
mind, it is diffused over his works. Under his 
direction it may be truly said, that philosophy is 
subservient to evangelical instruction : it is diffi- 
cult to read a page without learning, or at least 
washing, to be better." 

The virtue of this good man eminently appear- 
ed, in the happy state of his mind, under great 
pains and weakness of body, and in the improve- 
ment w^hich ne derived from them. Of those sea- 
sons of affliction, he says, with a truly elevated 
mind and thankful heart : '* I am not afraid to 
let the world know, that amidst the sinkings 
of life and nature, Christianity and the Gospel 
were my support. Amidst all the violence of 
my distemper, and the tiresome months of it, 1 
thank God, I never lost sight of reason, or rch- 
gion, though sometimes I had much difficulty to 
preserve the machine of animal nature in sucii 
order, as regularly to exercise cither the man or 
the Christian." 



288 DOCTOR WATTS. 

The sweet peace of conscience he enjoyed, un- 
der these trying circumstances ; and the rational 
and Christian foundation of his hope and trust in 
the Divine Goodness ; are beautifully and justly 
expressed by him in the following Hues : — 



" Yetj gracious God ! amid these storms of nature, 
Thine eyes behold a sweet and sacred calm 
Reign through the realms of conscience : all within 
Lies peaceful, all composed. 'Tis wondrous Grace 
Keeps off thy terrors from this humble bosom ; 
Though stain'd with sins and follies, yet serene 
In penitential peace and cheerful hope, 
Sprinkled and guarded with atoning blood. 
Thy vital smiles, amidst this desolation. 
Like heav'nly sun-beams, hid behind the clouds, 
Break out in happy moments, with bright radiance 
Cleaving the gloom ; the fair celestial light 
Softens and gilds the horrors of the storm, 
And richest cordials to the heart conveys. 



" O glorious solace of immense distress,. 
A conscience and a God ! This is my rock 
Of firm support, my shield of sure defence 
Against infernal arrows. Rise, my soul ! 
Put on thy courage : here's the living spring 
Of joys divinely sweet and ever new, 
A peaceful conscience, and a smiling Heav'n. 



DOCTOR WATTS. 229 

" My God, permit a creeping worm lo say, 
Thy Spirit knows I love thee ! — Worthless wretch, 
To dare to love a God ! — But grace requireSj 
And grace accepts. Thou seest my lah'ring soul. 
Weak as my zeal is, yet my zeal is true ; 
It bears the trying furnace. Love divine 
Constrains me : I am thine. Incarnate Love 
Has seized, and holds me in almighty arms 1 
Here 's my salvation, my eternal hope. 
Amidst the wreck of worlds and dying nature, 
I am the Lord's, and he's for ever mine !" 

When his sufferings were, in some degree, al- 
leviated, what excellent effects were produced in 
his mind ! How was his heart enlarged with love 
and gratitude to God ! and in what pathetic lan- 
guage did he pour out his spirit ! 



" Almighty Power, I love thee I blissful name, 
My healer God ! and may my inmost heart 
Love and adore for ever ! O 'tis good 
To wait submissive at thy holy throne, 
To leave petitions at thy feet, and bear 
Thy frowns and silence with a patient soul! 
The hand of mercy is not short to save, 
Nor is the ear of heavenly pity deaf 
To mortal cries. It noticed all my groans, 
20 



230 DOCTOR WATTS. 

And sighsj and long complaints, with wise delay, 
Though painful to the sufF'rer ; and thy hand 
In proper moment brought desired relief." 

And now, how amiable does he appear, when 
the shadows of the evening w^ere stretching over 
liim ! Two or three years before his decease, the 
active and sprightly powers of his nature gradu- 
ally failed ; yet his trust m God, through Jesus 
the Mediator, remained unshaken to the last. He 
was heard to say : " I bless God I can lie down 
with comfort at night, not being solicitous whether 
I awake in this world or another." And again : 
" I sliould be glad to read more ; yet not in order 
to be further confirmed in the truth of the Chris- 
tian religion, or in the truth of its promises ; for I 
believe them enough to venture an eternity upon 
them.'' 

When he was almost worn out, and broken 
down by his infirmities, he said, in conversation 
with a friend ; " I remember an aged minister 
used to observe, that 'the most learned and know-, 
ing Christians, w^hen they come to die, have only 
the same plain promises of the Gospel for their 
support, as the common and unlearned :' and so, 
I find it. It is the plain promises of the Gospel 
that are my support ; and, I bless God, they are 
plain promises, that do not require much labour 
and pains to understand them." 



DOCTOR WATTS. 231 

At times, when he found his spirit tending to 
impatience, and ready to complain that he could 
only lead a mere animal Hfe, he would clieck him- 
self thus : " The business of a Christian is, to 
bear ihe will of God, as well as to do it. If I were 
in health, ] ought to be doing it, and now it is 
my duty to bear it. The best thing in obedience, 
is a regard to tlie will of God ; and the way to 
that is, to have our inclinations and aversions as 
much mortified as we can." 

With so calm and peaceful a mind, so blessed 
and lively a hope, did the resigned servant of 
Christ wait for his Master's summons. He quietly 
expired in the 75th year of his age. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Colonel Gardiner — Lady Elizabeth Hastings — H, Hous- 
man — Doctor Doddtidge. 



SECTION I. 
COLONEL GARDINER. 

James Garuineii, a native of Scotland, was 
born in the year 1688. He received great part 
of his education, at a school at Linlithgow, where 
he made a very considerable progress in the lan- 
guages. His mother, with great tenderness and 
solicitude for his future happiness, instructed 
him in the principles of Christianity. The 
good effects of her prudent and exemplary care, 
were not, in the younger part of her son's life, 
so evident as she desired; but there is great 
reason to believe, that her instructions were not 
lost. They were the occasion of many convic 
tions, which, though for a time overborne, were 
afterwards happily remembered and revived. He 
used to make this observation for the encourage 
ment of parents and pious friends, to do their dutv 

232 



COLONEL GARDINER. 233 

towards young persons, and to hope for the 
best effects, though they may not immediately 
appear. 

He was a man of sound understanding, and of 
a frank, obliging, and generous temper. From 
the persuasions of a friend, and the ardour of his 
own spirit, he early engaged in a military life. 
He was often in imminent danger of death, and 
had several escapes, which may justly be cqnsid- 
ered as providential: but, in his unconverted 
state, he never viewed them in that hght; and 
they made no serious impression on his mind. For 
many years after he had attained the age of man- 
hood, he appears to have devoted himself to sen- 
sual pursuits. With a strong constitution of body, 
great flow of animal spirits, fine personal accom- 
plishments, and a large circle of gay and dissipa- 
ted companiofis, he seemed as amply qualified as 
most men, to range in the field of animal enjoy- 
ments, and to extract from it all that is capable of 
yielding. Yet this complete sensualist, in the 
meridian of his joys, bitterly experienced, that 
" even in laughter the heart is sorrowful, and the 
end of that mirth is heaviness." Being at one 
time congratulated by some of his dissolute com- 
panions, on his distinguished felicity, and a dog 
happening to co3)6 into the room, he could not 
forbear groaning D'vardly, and saying to himself, 
" Oh ! that I we t Jiat dog !" Such was then his 
20* 



234 COLONEL GARDINEIBL. 

happiness ; and such, perhaps, is that of hundreds 
more, who express the greatest contempt of reli- 
gion, and glory in a miserable servitude, which 
they affect to call liberty. 

His continual neglect of the great Author of his 
being, of whose perfections he could not doubt, 
and to whom he knew himself to be under daily 
and perpetual obligations, gave him, in some 
moments of involuntary reflection, inexpressible 
remorse ; and this, at times, wrought upon him 
to such a degree, that he resolved he would at- 
tempt to pay him some acknowledgments. Ac 
cordingly, for a time he did it; repeating, in 
retirement, passages out of the Psalms, and per- 
haps other Scriptures, which he still retained in 
his memory ; and owning, in a few strong words, 
the many mercies and deliverances he had re- 
ceived, and the ill returns he had made for them. 
But these emotions w^ere too devout to continue 
long in a heart as yet quite unsanctified : for how 
readily soever he could repeat acknov^^ledgments 
of the Divine Power, Presence, and Goodness, 
and owm his folhes and faults, he was stopped short 
by the remonstrances of his conscience, on the 
flagrant absurdity of confessing sins he did not de- 
sire to forsake ; and of pretending to praise God 
for his mercies, though he did not endeavour to 
live in his service, and to behave in such a manner 
as gratitude, if sincere, w^ould have dictated. 



COLONEL GARDINER. 235 

About the thirty-first year of his age, it pleased 
God to make him deeply sensible of the great 
wickedness of his life, and of the dreadful con- 
sequences of persisting in it. He became truly 
penitent, lived ever afterwards with great circum- 
spection, and was a bright and steady example of 
piety and goodness. 

After this great change in his heart and life, he 
did not entirely withdraw himself from cheerful 
conversation; but, on the contrary, gave several 
hours every day to it, lest religion should be re- 
proached, as having made him rnorose. He, 
however, early began a practice, which to the 
last day of his life he retained, of reproving vice 
and profaneness ; and, under the consciousness of 
his superiority in the goodness of his cause, he w^as 
never afraid to debate the matter with any person. 
A remarkable instance of this happened about the 
middle of the year 1720. It was on his first re- 
turn, to make any considerable abode in England, 
after his singular conversion. He had heard, 
whilst he was at Paris, that it was currently re- 
ported among his companions in England, that he 
was stark mad. He concluded, therefore, that he 
should have many battles to fight, and was willing 
to despatch the business as fast as he could. • And, 
therefore, intending to spend a few days at the 
country-house of a person of distinguished rank, 
with whom he had been very intimate, he desired 



236 COLONEL GARDINER. 

him to contrive that, a day or two after he came, 
several of their former gay companions should 
meet at his lordship's table ; that he might have 
an opportunity of making his apology to them, 
and of acquainting them with the nature and rea- 
sons of his change. It was accordingly agreed to; 
and a pretty large company met on the day ap- 
pointed, Vv^ith previous notice that Major Gardiner 
would be there. A good deal of raillery passed 
at dinner, to which the major made very little 
answer. But w^hen the cloth was taken away, and 
the servants had retired, he begged the patience 
of the company for a few minutes : and then 
plainly and seriously informed them what were 
his sentiments of religion and virtue ; and on what 
ground he had determined, that, by the grace of 
God, he would make rehgion the great business 
of his life, whatever he might lose by it, and 
whatever censure and contem.pt he might incur. 
He then challenged them to propose any thing 
they could urge, to prove that a life of irreligion 
and debauchery was preferable to the fear, love, 
and worship, of the eternal God, and a conduct 
agreeable to the precepts of the Gospel. And he 
failed not to bear testimonj^, from his own expe- 
rience, (to a part of which many of them had been 
witnesses,) that after having run the widest round 
of sensual pleasure, with all the advantages which 
the best constitution and spirits could give him, 
l^Q had never tasted any thing that deserved to bp 



COLONEL GARDINER. 237 

called happiness, till he had made religion his 
refuge and his delight. He described, calmly and 
boldly, the habitual serenity and peace that he 
now felt in his own breast, (for the most ele- 
vated delights he did not think fit to plead, lest 
they should be esteemed enthusiasm,) and the 
composure and pleasure with which he looked 
forward to objects, which the gayest sinner 
must acknowledge to be equally unavoidable 
and dreadful. 

After this solemn and manly defence of his 
principles and conduct, the master of the table, 
who was a sensible and candid person, said to the 
company : " Come, let us call another cause. We 
thought this man mad, and he is in good earnest 
proving that we are so." — On the whole, this 
well-judged circumstance saved him a great deal 
of trouble. When his former acquaintance ob- 
served, that he was still conversable and inno- 
cently cheerful, and that he was immoveable in 
his resolutions, they desisted from farther impor- 
tunity. And he afterwards declared, that instead 
of losing any one valuable friend, by this change 
in his character, he found himself much more 
esteemed and regarded by many, who could not 
persuade themselves to imitate his example. 

The private letters of this amiable man, show 
the religious state of his mind, and w^hat great 



238 COLONEL GARDINER. 

enjoyment he derived from communion with the 
Father of spirits. We shall make a few extracts 
from some of them, which were written to his 
wife, and to an intimate friend : — 

" I should be glad to hear what w^ise and good 
people, among you, think of the present circum- 
stances of things. For my own part, though I 
thank God I fear nothing for myself, my appre- 
hensions for the public are ver}^ gloomy, consider- 
ing the deplorable prevalence of almost all kinds 
of wickedness amongst us : the natural consequence 
of the contempt of the Gospel, I am daily offer- 
ing up my prayers to God for this sinfid land of 
ours, over which his judgment seems to be gather- 
ing ; and m}^ strength is sometimes so exhausted 
with those strong cries and tears, which I pour out 
before God on this occasion, that I am hardly able 
to stand when I arise from my knees." 

" I bless God I was never better in my life ; 
and I wish I could be so happ)'' as to hear the 
same of you, or rather, in other w^ords, to 
hear that you had obtained an entire trust in 
God. That would infallibly keep you in perfect 
peace ; for the God . of truth has promised it. 
Oh ! how ought we to long to be with Christ ; 
which is infinitely better than any thing we can 
propose here ! to be there, where all complaints 
shall be for ever banished ; where no mountains 



COLONEL GARDINER. 239 

shall separate between God and our souls ! And I 
hope it will be some addition to our happiness, 
that you and I shall be separated no more ; but 
that, as we have joined in singing the praises of 
our glorious Redeemer here, we shall sing them in 
a much higher strain, through an endless eternity." 

Speaking of one of his children, who, he had 
heard, made a commendable progress in learning, 
he expressed his satisfaction in it, and added : " But 
how much greater joy would it give me, to hear 
that he was greatly advanced in the school of Christ : 
Oh ! that our children may be wise to salvation ; 
and may grow in grace as they do in stature !" 

On another occasion he writes thus : — " What 
would I have given this day, upon the road, for 
paper, pen, and ink, when the Spirit of the Most 
High rested upon me ! ! for the pen of a ready 
writer, and the tongue of an angel, to declare 
what God has done this day for my soul ! Bat, in 
short, it is in vain to attempt it ; all that I am able 
to say, is only this, that my soul has been for 
some hours joining with the blessed spirits above, 
in giving glory, and honour, and praise, unto him 
that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb 
for ever and ever." 

Such were the elevations of his mind : yet 
there are many who will be inclined to censure 



240 COLONEL GARDINER. 

them, as the flights of enthusiasm. But when we 
consider the scriptural phrases, " of walking with 
God ; of having communion with the Father and 
his Son Jesus Christ ; of Christ's coming to them 
that open the door of their hearts to him, and 
supping wdth them ; of God's shedding abroad 
his love in the heart by his Spirit; of his coming 
with Jesus Christ, and maldng his abode with any- 
one that loves him ; of making us glad by the 
light of his countenance ;" and a variety of other 
equivalent expressions ; we shall see reason to 
judge very favourably of the sentiments contained 
in these letters. If habitual love to God ; firm 
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ ; a steady depend- 
ance on the divine promises : a full persuasion 
of the wisdom and goodness of all the dispen 
sations of Providence ; a high esteem for the 
blessings of the heavenly world; and a sincere 
contempt for the vanities of this ; can properly 
be called enthusiasm, then was Colonel Gardiner, 
indeed, one of the greatest enthusiasts our age has 
produced : and in proportion to the degree in 
which he was so, he must be esteemed one of the 
\visest and happiest of mankind. — '' How often," 
says the pious Grove, " are good thoughts suggest 
^ed, heavenly affections kindled and inflamed! 
how often is the Christian prompted to holy 
actions, drawn to his duty, restored, quickened, 
persuaded, in such a manner, that he w^ould be 
unjust to the Spirit of God, to question !iis agency 



COLONEL GARDINER. 241 

in the whole ! Yes, O my soul ! there is a Su- 
preme Being, who governs the world, and is pre- 
sent with it ; who takes up his more special habi- 
tation in good men, and is nigh to all who call 
upon him, to sanctify and assist them ! Hast thou 
not felt him, O my soul ! like another soul, actu- 
ating thy faculties, exalting thy views, purifying 
thy passions, exciting thy graces, and begetting 
in thee an abhorrence of sin, and a love of holi- 
ness ? And is not all this an argument of his pres- 
ence, as truly as if thou didst see him ?'' 

The cheerful and happy state of mind, for 
which this excellent man had been remarkable, 
continued with him to the last. It seems, indeed, 
that towards the close of life, his pious fervours, 
like the flame of a lamp almost expiring, some- 
times rose to an unusual blaze. " O !" said he, 
on a particular occasion, " how gracious a Master 
do we serve ! how pleasant is his service ! how 
rich are the entertainments of his love ! yet how 
poor and cold are our services !" 

When he found his health declining, and en- 
tertained a fixed sentiment that he should continue 
but a little while longer in life, he was so far 
from being depressed with the prospect, that he 
was delighted with it, and rejoiced the nearer 
his end approached. The holy Scriptures, with 
which he had as intimate an acquaintance as most 
21 



242 COLONEL GARDINER. 

men, continued to be his daily study. They 
furnished him with frequent matter of conversa 
tion, much to the edification and comfort of those 
that were about him. Among other passages he 
spoke of the following, as having made a deep 
impression on his mind : " My soul, wait thou 
only upon God !" He would repeat it again and 
again, " Only, only, only !" so plainly did he 
see, and so deeply did he feel, the vanity of all 
earthly confidences and expectations. He often 
mentioned these ^words in Isaiah, as verified to 
him by long experience : " Thou wilt keep him 
in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee ; 
because he trusteth in thee." And with peculiar 
satisfaction he uttered these heroic words in Ha 
bakkuk, which he found armour of proof against 
every fear, and every contingence : " Though 
the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit 
be in the vines ; the labour of the olive shall fail, 
and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flocks shall 
be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd 
in the stalls ; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will 
joy in the God of my salvation." 

In the year 1745, he was ordered to repair 
10 Stirling, to assist in subduing the rebellion. It 
was in the castle of that place, that his wife and 
eldest daughter enjoyed the last happy hours of 
his company : about eight or ten days before his 
death, he parted from them there. A remarkable 



COLONEL GARDINER. 243 

circumstance attended the separation. His wife 
was so affected when she took her last leave of 
him, that she burst into a flood of tears^ and be- 
trayed other marks of unusual emotion. When 
he asked her the reason, she urged, as a sufficient 
apology, the apprehensions she had of losing so 
invaluable a friend, amidst the dangers to which 
he was then called. She took particular notice, 
that though he had generally comforted her on 
such occasions, by reminding her of that remark 
able hand of Providence, which had so frequently, 
in former instances, been exerted for his preserva- 
tion, even in the greatest extremit)'', he said no- 
thing of it now ; but only replied, in his senten- 
tious manner, " We have an eternity to spend 
together." — He was killed in the battle of Preston- 
Pans, in the 57th year of his age.* 



* This account of Colonel Gardiner is extracted from a valuable 
little work, written by Dr. Doddridge, and entitled, *' Some Re- 
fnarkable Passages in the Life of Colonel James Gardnier." 



SECTION II. 
LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 

In the life, sufferings, and death, of Lady Eliza- 
beth Hastings, we have a hvely instance of the 
power and support of rehgion. 

An ingenuous temper, a quickness of under- 
standing, a benevolent spirit, a flexibility of na- 
ture, and a solemn sense of divine things, were 
observable in her tender age ; and, in the danger- 
ous ascent of life, her feet were guided and pre- 
served in the paths of rectitude and goodness ; so 
that she was not only free from the stain of vice 
in her rising years, but superior to the world, 
and its vain and trifling amusements. Through 
the whole course of her time, her lamp shone 
brightly ; and in mature age, diffused its light and 
influence in a wide extent around her. 

It appears that the great aim of her life was, 
to promote the glory of God, and the welfare of 
men, keeping her talents, extensive fortune, and 
other means of doing good, continually employed 
for the benefit of her fellow-creatures. Of all lier 
cares, a most special one was that of the stranger, 

244 



LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 245 

the fatherless and the widow ; the needy, and 
him that had no helper; the lame, the halt, and 
the bhnd. These objects excited her most tender 
compassion. She participated in their sufferings ; 
she often conversed with them ; and inquired into 
iheir history, with great condescension. She 
studied their particular cases, and put them in 
the way of improving their condition. She often 
visited them in sickness, bore the expenses of it ; 
and, no doubt, endeavoured to cheer and en- 
courage them under all the apparent hardships 
of their allotment. 

The following character of this noble-minded 
woman, was drawn by the hand of an eminent 
writer : — " Her countenance was the lively picture 
of her mind, which was the seat of honour, truth, 
compassion, knowledge, and innocence. In the 
midst of the most ample fortune, and the venera- 
tion of all that beheld and knew her, without the 
least affectation, she devoted herself to retire- 
ment, to the contemplation of her own being, 
and of that supreme Power which bestowed it. 
Without the learning of schools, or knowledge of 
a long course of arguments, she went on in an 
uninterrupted course of piety and virtue ; and 
added to the severity and privacy of the last age, 
all the freedom and ease of this. The language 
and mien of a court she was possessed of in a 
high degree; but the simplicity and humble 

21* 



246 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 

thoughts of a cottage, were her more welcome 
entertainments. She was a female philosopher, 
who did not only live up to the resignation of 
the most retired lives of the ancient sages, but 
also to the schemes and plans which they thought 
beautiful, though inimitable. This lady was the 
most exact economist, without appearing busy; 
the most strictly virtuous, without tasting the 
praise of it ; and shunned applause with as much 
industry as others do reproach." 

Towards the close of life, she experienced 
great bodily affliction, having a cancer in the 
breast, for which she underwent an amputation. 
But in all her sufferings from this cause, and even 
under the trying operation, her religious forti- 
tude and serenity of mind did not forsake her. 
The resignation of her spirit to the dispensations 
of Divine Providence, is strongly marked by the 
following expressions, which dropped from her 
during the course of this painful distemper : " I 
v/ould not wish to be out of my present situation, 
for all the world ; nor exchange it for any other, 
at any price." 

The night subsequent to the operation did not 
afford her much sleep, but it was a night of ce- 
lestial peace ; a time of thanksgiving to her God, 
for the visible demonstration of his power in and 
about her ; for his stretched-out arm in her great 



LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 247 

deliverance ; for the bountiful provisions he had 
made for all the wants of her soul and body ; 
and, in a word, for all his blessings conferred 
upon her. 

She was, sooner than expected, restored to a 
comfortable state of health, and to that life of 
charity and beneficence, which was the joy of 
her heart : but the disorder, repressed only for a 
time, appeared again with new malignity, and, 
at length, put a period to all her sorrows. Her 
lamp and her life were, however, to be extin- 
guished together : she was pious and beneficent 
to the last. 

A short time before her departure, impressed 
with a strong sense of Divine Goodness, she broke 
out, with a raised accent, in the following man- 
ner : " Lord ! what is it that I see ? O the great- 
ness of the glory that is revealed in me ! that is 
before me !" So joyful appears to have been her 
entrance into the kingdom of her Lord and 
Saviour. — She died in the year 1740. 

The truly religious, whose evidences of a blessed 
futurity, are clear, rational, and well founded, 
have, at times, in their journey through hfe, a 
tide of hope and joy springing up in their minds, 
beyond expression ; a felicity more moving and 
satisfactory than any can imagine, but they who 



248 LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 

have, in some degree, experienced it. And 
when they are just entering upon the promised 
land, they are sometimes favoured to have the 
splendour of the eternal day dawn upon them, 
and to shine as through the breaches of their 
shattered bodies ; raising in their spirits such an 
earnest of happiness, such foretastes of joy, as 
enable them to pass through the valley of death 
in peace and triumph. What a rich reward for 
all the crosses and conflicts of this probationary 
scene and how animating a source of encourage- 
ment, during our pilgrimage, to rise above, and 
look beyond, all the troubles of time ! 



SECTION III. 
H. HOUSMAN. 

There are few greater instances of the happy 
power of religion on the mind, than that which 
was exhibited by an excellent and pious woman 
of the name of Housman, when she drew near 
the close of life. 

She was born at Kidderminster, of religious 
parents, who early instructed her in the duties of 
religion. By her diary, it appears she was brought 
under lively impressions of divine things, at thir- 
teen years of age. From 1711. when her diary 
begins, to 1735, the time of her death, her life 
seems to have been a circumspect walking in the 
fear of God. The following account of her last 
illness and death, was drawn up by a person who 
attended her throughout. 

From the time of her first seizure, she was 
exercised with very violent pains, without any inter- 
mission, till her death ; such as, she would often 
say, she tnought she could not have borne: 
**but," said she, "God is good; verily he is 
good to me ! I have found him a good and gracious 
God to me all my days.'* 

When recovering from extreme pain slic said: 

249 



/ 

250 H. HOtJSMAN. 

" God is good ; I have found him so ; and though 
he slay me, yet I will trust in him. These pains 
make me love my Lord Jesus the better. O they 
put me in mind of what he suffered, to purchase 
salvation for my poor soul! Why for me, Lord! 
why for me, the greatest of sinners ? Why for me, 
who so long refused the rich offers of thy grace, 
and the kind invitations of the Gospel ? How many 
helps and means have I enjoyed more than many 
others; j^-ea, above most! — I had a religious 
father and mother ; and I had access to a valuable 
minister, to whom I could often and freely open 
my mind. I have lived in a golden age. I have 
lived in peaceable times, and have enjoyed great 
advantages and helps for communion with God, 
and the peace of my ow^n mind : for which I owe 
my gracious God and Father more praises than 
w^ords can express. Bless the Lord, O my soul, 
and all that is within me bless his holy name ! 
Bless the Lord, my soul, and forget not all, or 
any, of his benefits 1" 

When any were w^eeping and mourning over 
her, she would say : " Weep not for me ; it is the 
will of God ; therefore be content. If it may be 
for his honour and glory, he will spare me a little 
longer ; if not, I am wholly resigned to the will 
of God. I am content to stay here, as long as he 
has any thing for me to do, or to suffer; and I 
am walling to go, if it be my Father's good plea- 



H. HOUSMAN. 251 

sure. Therefore be content, and say, ' It is the 
Lord, let him do what seemeth to him good.' " 

To a person who came to see her, she said : 
" Cousin, I think I shall die : and now, what a 
comfort it is, that I am not afraid of death ! The 
blood of Christ cleanses me from all sin. But 
mistake me not ; there must be a life and conversa- 
tion agreeable to the Gospel, or else our faith in 
Christ is a dead faith. Secure Christ for your 
friend; set not your heart on things below : riches 
and honours, and what the ^vorld calls pleasures, 
are all fading, perishing things." She then threw 
out her hand, and said : " 0, if I had thousands 
and ten thousands of gold and silver lying by me, 
what could they do for me, now I am dying ? 
Take the advice of a departing friend who wishes you 
well. Do not set your affections on riches, or on 
any thing here below. Remember, death will come 
in a little while, whether you are ready or unready, 
willing or unwilling. I commend you to God. I 
hope, in a short time, we shall meet again in heaven, 
that place of perfect rest, peace, and happiness " 

The whole time of her sickness, she was in a 
cheerful, thankfal frame of mind. When she was 
cold, and had something warm given to her, she 
often said : " Blessed be God for all his mercies ; 
and for this comfort in my affliction." On her at- 
tendant's warming a piece of flannel, and puttin^r 



252 H. HOUSMAN. 

it round her cold hands, she thanked her for it, 
and said : " O, how many mercies I have ! I want 
for nothing. Here is every thing I can wish for. 
I can say, I never wanted any good thing. I wish 
only for a tranquil passage to glory. It was free 
Grace that plucked me from the very brink of hell ; 
and it is the power of divine Grace, that has sup- 
ported me through the whole of my life. Hitherto 
I can say, the Lord is gracious. He has been very 
merciful to me, in sustaining me under all my trials. 
The Lord brings affliction, but it is not because he 
delights to afflict his children : it is at all times for 
our profit. I can say, it has been good for me to 
be afflicted ; it has enabled me to discern things, 
which, when I was in health, I could not perceive. 
It has made me see more of the vanity and emptiness 
of this world, and all its transient comforts ; for, at 
best, they are but vanity. I can say from my own 
experience, I have found them to be so many a time." 

To her husband, the day before she died, she 
said : ^' My dear) I think I am going apace ; and 
I hope you will be satisfied, because it is the will 
of God. You have at all times been very loving 
and good to me ; and I thank you for it kindly . 
and now I desire you freely to resign me to God 
If Ciod sees it best to prolong my stay liere upon 
earthj I am willing to stay ; or, if he sees it best to 
lake me to himself, I am willing to go. I am willing 
to be, and to bear, what may be most for his glory." 



H. HOUSMAN. 253 

The evening before she died, she found death 
steahng upon lier ; and, feehng her own pulse, 
said : " Well, it will be but a little while before 
my work in this world will be finished. Then I 
shall have done with prayer. My whole employ- 
ment in heaven will be praise and love. Here, I 
love God but faintly, yet, I hope, sincerely ; but 
there it will be perfectl}^ I shall behold his face in 
righteousness ; for J am thy servant, Lord ! bought 
with blood, with precious blood. Christ died to 
purchase the life of my soul. — A little while, and 
then I shall be singing that sweet song, — ' Blessing, 
and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him 
that sitteth upon the throne, and to the lamb for 
ever and ever.' " 

With smiles in her face, and transports of joy, 
she often said : " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ! 
Why tarry the wheels of thy chariot ? O blessed 
convoy ! come and fetch my soul, to dwell with 
God, and Christ, and perfect spirits for ever and 
ever. When I join that blessed society above, my 
pleasures will never end. O the giory that shall 
be set on the head of faith and love !'* 

A few minutes before her departure, finding 
herself going, she desired to be lifted up. When 
this was done, she cheerfully said : " Farewell sin! 
farewell pains !" — and so finished her course with 

joy- 

22 



SECTION IV. 



DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 



Philip Doddridge was bom in London, in the 
year 1702. His parents, who were persons of 
great worth, brouglit him up in an early knowledge 
of religion: but he had the misfortune to lose 
ihem before he was fourteen years old. This cir- 
cumstance excited in his mind very serious reflec- 
tions, which, however, were not wholly of a gloomy 
nature ; for he expressed a devout, and even a 
cheerful, trust in the protection of the God of 
Mercies, the universal Parent of mankind. 

He diligently improved his time, and was 
anxious to be daily advancing in knowledge^ 
piety, virtue, and usefulness. He possessed strong 
powers of mind, and, by unwearied application^ 
acquired a large fund of sound and elegant learn 
ing. His publications, which are chiefly on re- 
ligious subjects, have been eminently useful to 
the world. By his literary acquisitions, his ami- 
able disposition, and his desire to imbue the 
young mind v/ith knowledge and virtue, he was 
qualified, in a peculiar manner, to become the 
instructer of youth ; and for many years he super- 
intended a ver)^ respectable academy. As the 
pastor of a congregation, he manifested a sincere 

254 



DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 255 

and zealous regard for the happiness of the peo- 
ple under his care, by whom he was greatly hon- 
oured and beloved. 

He possessed many virtues ; but the prime and 
leadmg feature of his soul, was devotion. He 
was very solicitous to preserve and cultivate an 
habitual sense of the Supreme Being; to maintain 
and increase the ardour of religion in his heart ; 
and to prepare himself, by devout exercises, foi 
the important labours of his station. Nor was it 
to his secret retirements that his piety was limited: 
it was manifested in every part of the day, and 
appeared in his usual intercourse w^ith men. In 
the little vacancies of time which occur to the 
busiest of mankind, he was frequently lifting up 
his soul to God. When he lectured on pfiilos- 
ophy, history, anatomy, or other subjects not 
immediately theological, he would endeavour to 
graft some religious instructions upon them, that 
he miglit raise the minds of his pupils to devotion, 
as well as to knowledge ; and in his visits to his 
people, the Christian friend and minister were 
united. 

The piety of Dr. Doddridge was accompanied 
with the warmest benevolence to his fellow-crea- 
tures. No one could more strongly feel, that the 
love of God must be united with love 'to man. 
Nor was this a principle that rested in kind wishes, 



256 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 

and pathetic feelings for the happiness of others 
but it was manifested in the most active exertions 
for their welfare. No scheme of doing good was 
ever suggested to him, into which he did not enter 
with ardour. But the generosity of his mind was 
the most displayed, when any plans of propaga- 
ting rehgion, and of spreading the Gospel among 
those who w^ere strangers to it, were proposed. 
In every thing of this kind, he was always ready 
to take the lead, and was ardent in endeavouring 
to inspire his friends with the same spirit. 

He was of a weak and delicate bodily consti- 
tution ; and a severe cold which he caught about 
the forty-eighth year of his age, brought on a con- 
sumption of the lungs. The nearer he approached 
to his dissolution, the more plainly w^as observed 
his continual improvement in a spiritual and 
heavenly temper. Indeed, he seemed to have 
risen above the w^orld, and to be daily breathing 
after immortality. This disposition of his mind 
was ardently expressed in several of his letters ; 
and it is manifest from his will, which w^as made 
at this time, and is prefaced in the following lan- 
guage: "Whereas it is customary on these occa- 
sions, to begin with commending the soul Into 
the hands of God, through Christ; I do it, not in 
mere form, but with sincerity and joy ; esteeming 
It my gieatest happiness, that I am taught and 
encouraged to do it, by that glorious Gospel, 



DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 257 

which, having most assuredly believed it, I have 
spent my life in preaching to others ; and which 
I esteem an infinitely greater treasure than all my 
little worldly store, or possessions ten thousand 
times greater than mine." 

Having made trial of the waters of Bristol, and 
his health still continuing more and more to de- 
cline, he was advised by his physicians and 
friends, as the last resort in so threatening a disor- 
der, to remove to a warmer climate. He accord- 
mgly went to Lisbon. His resignation to the Di- 
vine disposal is strongly marked in a letter, which 
he wrote soon after his arrival there. After 
mentioning his great weakness and danger, he 
added : — 

"Nevertheless, I bless God, the most undisturbed 
serenity continues in my mind, and my strength 
holds proportion to my day. I still hope and 
trust in God, and joyfully acquiesce in all he may 
do with me. When you see my dear friends of 
the congregation, inform them of my circum- 
stances, and assure them, that I cheerfully sub- 
mit myself to God. If I desire life may be re- 
stored, it is chiefly that it may be employed in 
serving Christ among them. I am enabled, by 
faith, to look upon death as an enemy that shall 
be destroyed ; and can cheerfully leave my dear 
Mrs. Doddridge widow in a strange land, if 

22* 



258 DOCTOR DODDRIDGE. 

such be the appointment of our Heavenly Father. 
I hope I have done my duty ; and the Lord do as 
seemeth good in his sight." 

Change of chmate did not produce the desired 
effect, and Dr. Doddridge continued gradually 
to weaken, till death put a period to his afflictions. 
In his kist hours, he preserved the same calmness, 
vigour, and joy of mind, which he had felt and 
expressed through the whole of his illness. The 
only pain he had in the thought of dying, was the 
fear of that grief and distress which his wife would 
suffer from his rem^oval. To his children, his con- 
gregation, and his friends in general, he desired 
to be remembered in the most affectionate manner ; 
nor did he, in the effusions of his pious benevo- 
lence, forget the family where he lodged, or his 
own servant. Many devout sentiments and aspi- 
rations were uttered by him : but the heart of his 
wife was too much affected with his approaching 
change, to be able to recollect them distinctly. 
Though he died in a foreign land, and, in a cer- 
tain sense, among strangers, his decease was em- 
balmed with many tears.* 

* A judicious life of this excellent man, written by Dr. Kinpis, 
is prefixed to the first volume of Dr. Doddridge*s Family E*» 
positor. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Louis, Duke of Orleans — Soame Jenyns — Lord Lyttel- 
ton — Jonas Hanway — Anthony Benezet — James Her- 
vey — Altamont, or the Death of the Libertine 



SECTION I. 

LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS. 

Louis, duke of Orleans, first prince of the 
blood royal of France, and highly distinguished 
for piety and learning, was born at Versailles, in 
the year 1703. He was the son of Philip, duke 
of Orleans, regent of France ; and of Mary 
Frances of Bourbon. He discovered, in his very 
childhood, a reverence for religion, a shining ge- 
nius, and an enlarged understanding. At an early 
age he became sensible of the vanity of titles, pre- 
eminence, and all the splendour of life. He pro- 
posed to himself a new mode of conduct, which 
he afterwards pursued, dividing his time between 
the duties peculiar to his rank, the exercises of a 
Christian, and the studies which improve the mind. 
He was, in every respect, a pattern of self-denial, 
of piety, and of virtue. 

259 



260 LOUIS, DUKE OF ORLEANS. 

His religion was not merely contemplative ; for 
he possessed a most extensive charity, and an en- 
lightened zeal for the public good. The indigent 
of every age, sex, and condition, excited his com- 
passionate regard. He daily heard their com* 
plaints, in one of the halls of the convent of St. 
Genevieve; he sympathized with them; he alle- 
viated their distresses. When it was not in his 
power to dismiss them entirely satisfied, his heart 
seemed to grant what necessity obliged him to 
refuse. It is hardly to be imagined what sums this 
pious prince expended, in placing children for 
education in colleges and nunneries, in portioning 
young women, endowing nuns, putting boys ap- 
prentices, or purchasing for them their freedom ; 
in setting up unfortunate tradesmen in business 
again, and preventing the ruin of others ; in re- 
storing and supporting noblemen's families ; in 
relieving the sick, and paj^ing surgeons for their 
attendance on them. Very often accompanied 
by a single servant, he sought after poor persons, 
in chambers and garrets, and kindly administered 
to their wants. He made great improvements in 
physic, agriculture, arts, and manufactures. He pur- 
chased, and pubhshed, a variety of useful remedies. 
His gardens were filled with medicinal plants of 
all sorts, brought from the most distant climates. 

The delight he found in piety and devotion, he 
used thus to express : " I know, by experience, 




LOUIS, DUKE OP ORLEANS. 261 

that sublunary grandeur and sublunary pleasure, 
are delusive and vain ; and are always infinitely 
below the conceptions we form of them : but, on 
the contrary, such happiness, and such compla 
cence, may be found in devotion and piety, as the 
sensual mind has no idea of." 

In his last illness, perceiving that death was 
approaching, he prepared for it with the greatest 
fortitude and composure ; and spoke of it, as of 
the demise of another person. In his will, he 
expatiated, in the most pathetic manner, on his 
bchef in the resurrection. 

At the concluding period of life, his mind 
seemed filled with the love of God ; and he im- 
plored, with the utmost earnestness, the Divine 
blessing for his son, the duke of Chalres. " I 
have a son," said he to the minister who attended 
him, " whom I am going to commend to the all- 
perfect Being. I entreat God that his natural 
virtues may become Christian graces ; that the 
qualities which gain him esteem, may be service- 
able to his salvation; that his love for the king, 
and his love for me, may be the blossoms of that 
immortal charity, which the holy spirits and bless- 
ed angels enjoy." 

Thus died this truly Christian prince, in the 
forty-ninth year of his age. 



SECTION II. 



SOAME JENYNS. 



SoAME Jenyns was born in London, in the 
year 1704. He was carefully educated in liis fa- 
ther's house, till he went to the university of 
Cambridge, where he studied very diligently for 
several years. In 1741, he represented Cambridge 
in parliament ; where he continued to sit, chiefly 
for that place, but twice for others, till 1780. In 
1755, he was appointed one of the lords of trade; 
which office he held, during every change of 
administration, till it was abolished in 1780. 

His character appears to have been amiable 
and respectable. As an author, he attained no 
small degree of reputation, by fine talents, which 
had every aid that useful and polite learning 
could bestow. He had a critical judgment, an 
elegant taste, and a rich vein of wit and humour. 
His " View of the Internal Evidences of the Chris- 
tian Religion," abounds with just and important 
observations. It was written under a full convic- 
tion of the truth of the Christian dispensation, and 
from a sincere zeal for its service. 

On his death-bed, it is said that, in looking 
over his life, he particularly rejoiced in the be- 
lief, that his " View of the Internal Evidences," 

262 



SOAME JENYNS. 263 

had been useful. He spoke of his death m such 
a manner, as showed he was prepared to die. A 
very honourable testimony to his talents and 
merit, was inscribed in the register of Bottisham, 
by William Lort Mansell, his parish minister. 
**He regrets the loss of one of the most amiable 
of men, and one of the truest Christians ; — a man 
who possessed the finest understanding united to 
the best heart." 

The following sentiments of Soame Jenyns, on 
the excellence of the Spirit, and precepts of the 
Gospel, appear to have been formed so much under 
the influence of true religion, and contain so strong 
a testimony in favour of its divine efficacy, that 
they claim a place in this collection ; — 

" Let us examine," says he, " what are the 
new precepts in the Christian Religion, which 
peculiarly correspond with its object, the prepa- 
ring us for the kingdom of heaven. Of these, the 
chief are, poorness of spirit, forgiveness of inju- 
ries, and charity to all men : to these, we may 
add repentance, faith, self-abasement, and a de- 
tachment from the world ; all moral duties pecu- 
liar to this religion, and absolutely necessary to the 
attainment of its end. 

" * Blessed are the poor in spirit ; for theirs is 
the kingdom of heaven.' By which poorness of 



§64 SOAME JENYNS, 

spirit, is to be understood, a disposition of rnind,. 
meek, humble, submissive to power, void of am-r 
bition, patient of injuries, and free from all resent- 
ment. This was so new, and so opposite to the 
ideas of all Pagan moralists, that they thought 
this temper of mind a criminal and contemptible 
meanness, which must induce men to sacrifice the 
glory of their country, and their own honour, to 
a shameful pusillanimity : and such it appears to 
almost all who are called Christians, even at this 
day ; who not only reject it in practice, but disa- 
vow it in principle, notwithstanding this expli- 
cit declaration of their Master. We see thenri 
revenging the smallest affronts by premeditated 
ijiurderj as individuals, on principles of honour ; 
and, in their national capacities, destroying 
each other with fire and sword, for the low con- 
siderations of commercial interests, the balance of 
rival powers, or ^he ambition of princes : we 
see them, with thb^' "^tst breath, animating each 
other to a savage reven^ ; and, in the agonies of 
death, plunging, with feeble arms, their daggers 
into the hearts of their opponents : and, what is 
still worse, we hear all these barbarisms celebrated 
by historians ; flattered by poets ; applauded in 
theatres ; approved in senates ! and even sanctified 
in pulpits ! But universal practice cannot alter the 
nature of things, nor universal error change the 
nature of truth. Pride was not made for man; 
but humility, meekness, and resignation^ that is, 



SQAME JENYNS. 265 

poorness of spirit, was made for man, and properly 
belongs to his dependant and precarious situation ; 
and is tlie only disposition of mind, which can 
enable him to enjoy ease and quiet here, and hap^ 
piness hereafter. Yet was this important precept 
entirely unknown, until it was promulgated by him 
who said : ' Suffer little children to come unto me, 
and forbid them not ; for of such is the kingdom 
nf heaven : verily I say unto yon, whoever shall 
not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, 
he shall not enter therein/ 

" Another precept, equally new, and no less ex- 
cellent, is, forgiveness of injuries. * Ye have 
heard,' says Christ to his disciples, ' Thou shalt 
love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy : but I 
say unto you, love your enemies ; bless them that 
curse you ; do good to them that hate you ; and 
pray for them who despitefully use you, and per- 
secute you." — This was a lesson, so new, and so 
utterly imknown, till taught by his doctrines, and 
enforced by his example, that the wisest moralists 
of the wisest nations and ages, represented the 
desire of revenge as a mark of a noble mind, and 
the accomplishment of it as one of the chief felici- 
ties attendant on a fortunate man. But how much 
more magnanimous, how niuch more beneficial to 
mankind, is forgiveness ! It is more magnanimous, 
because every generous and exalted disposition of 
the human mind is requisite to the practice of it , 

23 



266 SOAME JENYNS. 

for these alone can enable us to bear the wjrong? 
and insults of wickedness and folly with patience, 
and to look down on the perpetrators of them, 
with pity rather than indignation : these alone can 
teach us, that such are but a part of those sufferings 
allotted to us in this state of probation ; and to 
know, that to overcome evil with good, is the most 
glorious of all victories. It is the most beneficial, 
because this amiable conduct alone can put an end 
to a continual succession of injuries and retalia- 
tions ; for every retaliation becomes a new injury, 
and requires another act of revenge for satisfac- 
tion. But would we observe this salutary precept, 
Uo love our enem.ies, and to do good to those 
who despitefully use us,' this obstinate benevo- 
lence would at last conquer the most inveterate 
hearts, and we should have no enemies to forgive. 
How much more exalted a character, therefore, is 
a Christian martyr^ suffering with resignation, and 
praying for the guilty, than a Pagan hero, 
breathing revenge, and destroying the innocent ! 
Yet, noble and useful as this virtue is, before the 
appearance of this religion, it was not only un- 
practised, but decried in principle, as mean and 
Ignominious, though so obvious a remedy for most 
of the miseries of this life ; and so necessary a 
qualification for the happiness of the next. 

" Repentance is another new moral duty stren- 
uously insisted on by this religion. But no 



SOAME JENYNS. 267 

repentance can remove our depravity, unless it be 
such as entirely changes the nature and dispo- 
sition of the offender ; which, in the language of 
Scripture, is called 'being born again.' Mere 
contrition for past crimes, and even the pardon of 
them, cannot effect this, unless it openate to this 
entire conversion, or nev^ birth, as it is properly 
and emphatically named ; for sorrow can no more 
purify a mind corrupted by a long continuance in 
vicious habits, than it can restore. health to a body 
distempered by a long course of vice and inteni- 
perance. Hence, also, every one who is in the 
least acquainted with himself, may judge of the 
reasonableness of the hope that is in him, and of 
his situation in a future state, by his present, 
condition. If he feels in himself a temper proud, 
turbulent, vindictive, and malevolent, and a vio- 
lent attachment to the pleasures or business of 
the world, he may be assured that he must be 
excluded from the kingdom of heaven ; not only 
because his conduct can attract no such reward ; 
but because, if admitted, he w^ould find there na 
objects satisfactory to his passions, inclinations 
and pursuits, 

" Failh is another moral duty enjoined by this 
institution, and recommended in the New Testa- 
ment; where, in general, it signifies an humble, 
teachable, and candid disposition, a trust in God, 
and confidence in his declarations and promises ; 



268 SOAME JENYNS. 

and it is always a direct contrast to pride, obsti- 
nacy, and self-conceit. 

" Self-abasement is another moral duty inculcated 
by this religion only ; which requires us to impute 
even our own virtues, to the grace and favour of 
our Creator ; and to acknowledge, that we can do 
nothing good by our own powers, unless assisted 
by his over-ruling influence. This doctrine seems, 
at first sight, to infringe on our free-will, and to 
deprive us of all merit; but, on a closer examina- 
tion, the truth of it may be demonstrated both by 
reason and experience : it is evident that, in fact, 
it does not impair the one, or depreciate the other; 
and that it is productive of so much humility, 
resignation, and dependance on God, that it justly 
claims a place amongst the most illustfious moral 
virtues. 

*' Detachment from the world is another moral 
virtue constituted by this religion alone ; so new 
that, even at this day, few of its professors can be 
persuaded that it is required, or tliat it is any 
virtue at all. By this detachm.ent from the world, 
is not to be understood a seclusion from society, 
abstraction from all business, or retirement to a 
gloomy cloister. Industry and labour, cheerfulness 
and hospitality, are frequently recommended ; nor 
is the acquisition of wealth and honours prohibited, 
if they call be obtained by honest means, and 9 



SOAME JENYNS. 269 

moderate degree of attention and care : but such an 
unremitted anxiety, and perpetual application, as 
engross our whole time and thoughts, are for- 
bidden ; because they are incompatible with the 
spirit of this religion, and must utterly disqualify 
us for the attainment of its great end. We toil 
on in the vain pursuits and frivolous occupations 
of the world, die in our harness, and then expect, 
if no gigantic crime stand in the way, to step im- 
mediately into the kingdom of heaven : but with- 
out a previous detachment from the business of 
this world, we cannot be prepared for the happi- 
ness of another. — Yet this could make no part of 
the morality of Pagans, because their virtues were 
altogether connected with this business, and con- 
sisted chiefly in conducting it with honour to 
themselves, and benefit to the public. Christianity 
has a nobler object in view, which, if not attended 
Jo, must be lost for ever. This object is that 
celestial mansion, of which we should never lose 
sight, and to which we should be ever advancing, 
'during our journey through hfe : but this by no 
means precludes us from performing the business, 
or enjoying the amusements, of travellers, pro- 
vided they detain us not too long, nor lead us out 
rf our way. 

" Another precept, first noticed and first enjoined 
by this institution, is, charity to all men. What 
jhis is, we may best learn from the admirable de^ 
83* 



270 SOAME JENYNS. 

scription, contained in the following words: 
* Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; charity 
envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself; is not 
puffed up ; doth not behave itself unseemly ; 
seeketh not her own ; is not easily provoked • 
thinkelh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but 
rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things ; believeth 
all things ; hopeth all things ; endureth all things.' 
Here we have an accurate delineation of this 
bright constellation of all virtues ; which consists 
not, as many imagine, in the building of monas- 
teries, endowment of hospitals, or the distribution 
of alms ; but in such an amiable disposition of 
mind, as exercises itself every hour in acts of 
kindness, patience, complacence, and benevo- 
lence to all around us ; and which alone is able 
to promote happiness in the present life, or ren- 
der us capable of receiving it in another. — And 
yet this is totally new, and so it is declared to be, 
by the Author of it: 'A new commandment I 
give unto you, that ye love one another ; as I 
have loved you, that ye love one another ; by this 
shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye 
have love one to another.' This benevolent dis- 
position is made the great characteristic of a 
Christian, the test of his obedience, and the mark 
by which he is to be distinguished. 

" This love for each other, is that charity just 
now described, and contains all those qualities 



SOAME JENYNS. 271 

which are there attributed to it; humility, 
patience, meekness, and beneficence : without 
which we must live in perpetual discord, and 
consequently cannot pay obedience to this com- 
mandment of loving one another : a comm.and- 
ment so sublime, so rational, and so beneficial, 
so wisely calculated to correct the depravity, 
diminish the wickedness, and abate the miseries 
of human nature, that, did we universally comply 
with it, we should soon be relieved from all the 
inquietudes arising from our own unruly passions, 
anger, envy, revenge, malice, and ambition; as 
well as from all those injuries, to which we are 
perpetually exposed, from the indulgence of the 
same passions in others. It would also preserve 
our minds in such a state of tranquillity, and so 
prepare them for the kingdom of heaven, that 
we should slide out of a life of peace, love, and 
benevolence, into that celestial society, by an 
almost imperceptible transition," 



SECTION III. 
LORD LYTTELTON. 

Geouge Lyttelton, the son of Sir Thomas 
Lyttehon, of Hagley, in Worcestershire, was born 
in 1709. He was educated at Eton, and was 
so much distinguished there, that his exercises 
were recommended as models to his school- 
fellows. At the university of Oxford, where 
his education was completed, he pursued his 
classical studies with uncommon avidity and 
success ; and retained the same reputation of 
superiority. 

As a WTiter, both in prose and verse, Lord 
Lyitelton attained considerable eminence ; and, 
by his great abilities and integrity, became highly 
useful to his- country. 

In the pride of juvenile confidence, with the 
help of corrupt conversation, he had entertained 
doubts of the truth of Christianity ; but, about 
the 38th year of his age, he thought the time 
come when it was no longer fit to doubt or believe 
by chance, and appHed himself seriously to the 
great question. His studies, being honest, ended 
in conviction. He found that religion was true, 
and what he had learned he endeavoured to teach, 
by" Observations on the Conversion of St. Paul ;" 

272 



LORD LYTTELTON. 273 

a treatise to which infidelity has never been able to 
fabricate a specious answer. This book, his father 
had the happiness of seeing, and expressed his pleas- 
ure, in a letter which deserves to be inserted : — 

"I have read your religious treatise with in 
finite pleasure and satisfaction. The style is fine 
and clear, the arguments close, cogent, and irre- 
sistible. May the King of kings, whose glorious 
cause you have so well defended, reward your 
pious labours ; and grant that I may be found 
worthy, through the merits of Jesus Christ, to be 
an eyewitness of that happiness, which I do not 
doubt he will bountifully bestow upon you ! In 
the meantime, I shall never cease glorifying God, 
for having endowed you with such useful talents, 
and given me so good a son. 

" Your affectionate father, 

" Thomas Lyttelton." 

After a life spent in honourable pursuits, this 
distinguished person was seized with a severe 
illness, about the 64th year of his age, wliich 
soon proved mortal. Of his dcalh, a very affect- 
ing and instructive account has been given by 
his physician. 

" On Sunday evening, the symptoms of In's 
lordsliip's disorder, which for a Week past had 
alarmed us, put on a fatal appearance ; and his 



\ 



274 LORD LYTTELTON. 

lordship believed himself to be a dying man. 
From this time he suffered by restlessness, rather 
than pain. Though his nerves were apparently 
much fluttered, his mental faculties never seemed 
stronger, wdien he v^^as thoroughly awake. 

" Though his lordship wished his approaching 
dissolution not to be lingering, he waited for it 
with resignation. He said, * It is a folly, a keep- 
ing me in misery, now to attempt to prolong hfe :' 
yet he was easily persuaded, for the satisfaction 
of others, to do or take any thing thought proper 
for him. On Saturday, he had been remarkably 
better, and we were not without some hopes of 
his recovery. 

*^0n Sunday, about eleven in the forenoon, 
his lordship sent for me : he said he felt a great 
hurry of spirits, and wished to have a little con- 
versation with me, in order to divert it. He then 
proceeded to open the fountain of that heart, 
from whence goodness had so long flowed, as 
from a copious spring. ^ When I first set out in 
the world,' said he, * I had friends who endeav- 
oured to shake my belief in the Christian reli- 
gion. I saw difficulties which staggered me ; but 
I kept my mind open to conviction. The evi- 
dences and doctrines of Christianity, studied with 
attention, made me a most firm and persuaded 
believer of the Christian religion. I have made it 



LORD LYTTELTON. 275 

the rule of my life, and it is the ground of rny 
future hopes. I have erred and sinned ; but have 
repented, and never indulged any vicious habit. 
In politics, and public life, I have made public 
good the rule of my conduct. I never gave, coun- 
sels which I did not at the time think best. I 
have seen that I was sometimes in the wrong, but 
I did not err designedly. I have endeavoured, in 
private life, to do all the good in my power ; and 
never for a moment could indulge malicious or un- 
just designs upon any person whatsoever.' 

" At another time he said : * I must leave my soul 
m the same state it was in before my illness ; I 
fin.d this a very inconvenient time for solicitude 
about any thing.' 

" On the evening, when the symptoms of death 
came on, he said : ' I shall die ; but it will not be 
your fault.' When Lord and Lady Valentia came 
to see his lordship, he gave them his solemn bene- 
diction, and said : ' Be good, be virtuous, my lord ; 
you must come to this.' Thus he continued giv- 
ing his dying benediction to all around him. On 
Monday morning, a lucid interval gave some small 
hopes, but these vanished in the evening ; and he 
continued dying, though with very little uneasiness, 
till Tuesday morning, August 22, (1773,) when, 
between seven and eight o'clock, he expired almost 
without a <Troan." 



SECTION IV. 



JONAS HANWAY. 



A PERSON SO disinterested in private life, and so 
religiously concerned for the happiness of others 
as was the distinguished Jonas Hanway, demands 
a place in these memoirs. This excellent man 
devoted his time, his fortune, his powers of body 
and mind, to the service of his fellow-creatures. 
To improve the morals of the poor, to alleviate 
their distresses, and to provide for their offspring 
suitable instruction and useful employment, were 
objects he had much at heart ; and a great part of his 
life was spent in promoting these benevolent views. 
It may justly be said of him, that, next to his reve- 
rence for the Divine Being, the love of human kind 
wvas the strongest feeling of his breast; and that, 
when he had engaged in any office of general be- 
nevolence, no obstacles, but those which were insu- 
perable, could discourage his active perseverance. 

As he well knew how^ much the happiness of 
the poorer classes of mankind depends on frugal- 
ity and habitual industr}^, lie studied to promote 
amongst them virtues so necessary to their con- 
dition. It gave him a very sensible pleasure, 
when any of the numerous objects of his charity, 
who came to pay him their respects, were cleanly 
and neatly dressed, and appeared with cheerful 

276 



JONAS HAN WAY. 277 

and contented countenances. He treated them 
with respect and attention ; entered into their con- 
cerns with paternal affection ; and let them know 
that, on any real emergency, they might with con- 
fidence apply to him. It was this, rather than the 
largeness of his gifts, that endeared him so much 
to the people. He never walked out, but he was 
followed by the good wishes, silent or expressed, 
of some to whom he had afforded rehef. To meet 
the grateful eyes of persons whom he had served, 
was to him a high enjoyment ; and no one partook 
of it oftener. 

This benevolent and pious man, through the 
whole course of his life, remembered that he was 
an accountable being. He examined his own con- 
duct, with the same degree of severity which men 
too often adopt in their scrutiny into the conduct 
of others ; and considered that the time would 
come, and might not be far off, when he should 
reflect with sorrow on every bad action. There 
are many well-disposed men, who, knowing that 
death is inevitable, endeavour to banish from their 
minds the awful thought ; but Han way seemed to 
derive a solemn pleasure from indulging the idea. 
To excite the frequent recollection of his condi- 
tion and end, he caused to be inscribed on a plate 
of brass the following lines, which seemed to have 
been designed as his epitaph, and which he often 
seriously reviewed : — 

24 



^78 JONAS ilANWAY. 

"I believe that my Redeemer liveth, 
And that I shall also rise from 
The grave, 
Jonas Hanway ; 
WhOj trusting in that good Providence 
Which so visibly governs the world, 
Passed through a variety of fortunes with 
Patience > 

Living the greater part of his days 

In foreign lands, ruled by arbitrary power, 

He received the deeper impression 

Of the happy constitution of his own country ; 

Whilst 

The persuasive laws contained in the 

New Testament, 

And the Consciousness of his own depravity, 

Softened his heart to a sense 

Of the various wants of his 

Fellow-creatures. 

Reader, 

Inquire no further : 

The Lord have mercy on his soul and thine ! 

Apprehensive of the too partial regard of his friends, 
and esteeming plain truth above the proudest trophies oi 
monumental flattery ; at the age of fifty-one, he caused 
this plate and inscription to be made." 



JONAS IIANWAY. 279 

In the summer of 1786, his health sensibly de- 
dined ; and he perceived that he was verging to- 
wards that state, which he had often contemplated 
with solemn complacence. During the progress 
of a tedious, and sometimes very painful illness, 
he never expressed the least impatience. When 
he grew so weak as to be confined to his bed, he 
requested his physicians to speak frankly, and 
without reserve, of his disorder : and when he was 
convinced that he could not recover, he sent and 
paid all his tradesmen ; he took leave of his most 
intimate friends ; dictated some letters to absent 
acquaintances ; and discoursed concerning his af- 
fairs with tranquillity, and even with cheerfulness. 
To his surgeon, who attended him with unceasing 
anxiety, he said : " If you think it will be of ser- 
vice in your practice, or to any one who may come 
after me, I beg you will have my body opened : I 
am willing to do as much good as possible." 

He expressed his satisfaction, that his mind had 
never wandered or been perplexed, in any part of 
liis illness. In the morning previous to his death, 
he said to an intimate friend : " I have no uncom- 
fortable reflections concerning my approaching 
end ; but I find life so strong, that I think I shall 
not leave the world without a sharp conflict." — 
Soon after this, the disorder increased, and put a 
period to a long and valuable life, spent in prcmo- 
ling the glory of God, and the good of mankind. 



280 JONAS HANWAY. 

The following stanzas are worthy of a place m 
the character of this truly pious and benevolent 
man : — 

And thou, blest Hanway ! long thy country's prayer, 
Exulting now in kindred worlds above, 

Coheir of Howard ! deign the muse to hear, 
Though angels greet thee with a brother's love. 



Far though removed from this diminish'd earth, 

A crown of glory beaming on thy brow, 
The God who fixed it there — to note thy worth, 
Bids the rapt lyre with all thy spirit glow. 

Warm in the way, behold what myriads come, 
While tears of ecstasy and anguish flow ! 

Their blended incense pouring on thy tomb, 
To mark an empire's joy, an emphe's wo. 

Close to thy Howard — O congenial shade I 
On the pure column shall thy bust have place; 

Though deep in every bosom is portrayed. 
Those grateful records time shall ne'er erase. 

The generous plan that public virtue draws, 
The fair design that charity imparts. 

The genius kindling in Religion's cause, 
Cherish their champion in our faithful hearts. 



JONAS IIANWAY. 281 

Near Hanway's bust the Magdalen shall kneel, 
A chasten'd votary of Compassion's dome j* 

With pious awe the holiest ardours feel, 
And bless the founder of her peaceful home : 

And O, Philanthropy ! thy heav'n-rear'd fane* 
Shall oft avow the good man's zeal divine, 

When bounty leads a poor and orphan train 

To clasp their little arms round Hanway's shrme. 

Transcendent energies of grace sublime, 
Whose magic goodness work'd with double powT, 

Cradled the outcast babe who knew no crime. 
And bade the sinner turn, and blush no more. 

Ah, full of honours as of years, farewell ! 

Thus o'er thy ashes shall Britannia sigh ; 
Each age, each sex, thy excellence shall tell. 

Which taught the young to live, the old to die ! 



* The Magdalen House, 
t The Foundling Hospital. 

24* 



SECTION V. 



ANTHONY BENEZET. 



Anthony Benezet was born in France, in the 
year 1713. Tne persecution, on account of reli- 
gious opinions, which then existed in that country, 
induced his parents to leave France. After a resi 
dence of many years in London, they and their 
son, the subject of this memoir, went to America, 
and settled in Philadelphia. 

He was a man of sound understanding, of great 
piety, humility, and self-denial, and of a very be 
nevolent disposition. Being desirous of spending 
his life in a manner the most useful to his fellow- 
creatures, he devoted himself to the education of 
youth. In this arduous, but truly honourable 
employment, he passed about forty years ; and 
acquitted himself very much to the satisfaction 
of parents and children. His great object was, to 
imbue the minds of his pupils with reverence for 
religion, and to train them up in a course of vir- 
tue. Pecuniary advantages were of small mo- 
ment in his estimation, of which he gave many 
striking proofs. A short time before his decease, 
he declared, in a letter to a friend, that though 
leisure and retirement would be very agreeable to 
him, he was well satisfied to remain in his occu- 
pation; and that he knew no other, whatever 

282 



ANTHONY BENEZET. 283 

might be its advantages, for which he would ex- 
change his employment, unless it were a commis- 
sion to preach and propagate, as a minister, the 
Gospel of Christ, 

When the school established in Philadelphia, 
"for the instruction of black people and their 
offspring," was suspended, on account of the in- 
disposition of their teacher, he voluntarily surren- 
dered his own school to other competent persons, 
and undertook the education of those people, 
though, in a pecuniary respect, he lost con- 
siderably by the change. His humility, and his 
sympathy with that unhappy race of men, dis- 
posed him to think no condescensions degrading, 
by which he could be peculiarly useful to them : 
and he was greatly desirous, that they might be 
so improved in their minds, as to render the free- 
dom which they had lately recovered, a real bles- 
sing to themselves, and a benefit to the state. 

He was a friend to the poor and distressed 
of every description, and laboured most earnestly 
for their relief and welfare. It may indeed be 
said of him, that his whole life was spent in going 
about doing good to men. He appeared to do 
every thing, as if the words of his Saviour were 
continually sounding in his ears • " Wist ye not 
that I must be about my Father's business ?" He 
was, as Dr. Rush observed, a man of a truly 



284 ANTHONY BENEZET. 

catholic spirit ; one who loved piety and virtue m 
others, wherever he found them ; and who re- 
spected all sincere worshippers of God, in what- 
ever manner that worship was performed. 

The miseries of the enslaved Africans, and the 
great injustice done to them, very deeply affected 
his compassionate heart. He published many 
tracts on the subject ; supported an extensive cor- 
respondence w^ith persons in Europe and America, 
who were likely to aid his benevolent views ; and 
exerted himself to the utmost, to ameliorate the 
condition of the negroes, and to procure the en- 
tire abolition of the trade. As he was one of the 
earliest advocates of these injured men, and inde- 
fatigably pursued his object, w^e may fairly at- 
tribute to his labours, w^ilh the Divine blessing 
upon them, a great part of that spirit of inquiry 
into their situation, and sympathy with their dis- 
tresses, which have spread over the world ; and 
which, we trust, wall, ere long, destroy this system 
of inhumanity and injustice. 

About a year before his decease, his health be- 
came much impaired ; but being of a lively dispo- 
sition, very temperate, and zealously concerned to 
occupy his talents to the last, he supported his 
school, till he was quite disabled from performing 
the duties of it. But his charity and beneficence 
continued with life. The last time he walked across 



ANTHONY BENEZET. 285 

his room, was to take from his desk six dollars, 
which he gave to a poor widow whom he had 
long assisted to maintain. Three hours before 
his death, he delivered to his executors a num- 
ber of tracts, in sheets, on religious subjects, 
with directions for their being bound and dis- 
persed. He devised nearly the whole of his 
estate, after the decease of his wife, to trustees, 
for the support and benefit of the Negro school, 
of which he had been the tutor. And thus, 
having lived a most useful and exemplary life, 
he was well prepared for the approach of death. 
He endured his pains with much patience ; and, 
with Christian composure of mind, resigned this 
mortal life, in the firm expectation of a happy 
immortality. 

The loss of this beneficent man was deeply felt 
by his fellow- citizens ; and his funeral was attended 
by a great number of persons of all ranks, and of 
all religious professions ; and many hundreds of 
Negroes joined the procession. It may justly be 
said, that '' the mourners went about the streets," 
and that his death was embalmed with tears. An 
officer, who had served in the American army 
during the late war, in returning from the funeral, 
pronounced a striking eulogium upon him. It 
contained but a few words : " I would rather," said 
he, "be Anthony Bcnezet, in that coffin, than 
George Washington with all his fame." 



SECTION VI. 



JAMES HERVEY. 



James Hervey, an ingenious and pious clergy- 
man, and a very popular writer, v^as born at 
Hardingstone, in Northamptonshire, in the year 
1714. He had his education at the free grammar 
school at Northampton ; and at Lincoln college, 
in Oxford. After a residence of seven years, he 
left the University ; and became, in 1736, curate 
to his father, then possessed of the living of 
Weston-Favell. He Avas an excellent scholar, 
being master of the three learned languages, and 
well read in the classics. 

In 1750, at his father's death, he succeeded to 
the livings of Weston and CoUingtree ; which 
being within five miles of each other, he attended 
alternately with his curate, till the ill state of his 
health confined him to Weston. Here he after- 
wards constantly resided, and diligently pursued 
his labours, both in his ministerial office, and in 
his study, as long as possible, under the disad- 
vantage of a weak constitution. He did not 
satisfy himself with preaching only on the Lord's 
day ; but, whilst his strength permitted him, held 
a regular lecture in the middle of the week, 

286 



JAMES HERVEY. 287 

wliich was very well attended. He also diligently 
catechised the children of his parishioners, and 
was regular in his pastoral visits at their houses, 
till he was confined to his own, when he encour- 
aged them to come to him, for his friendly and reli- 
gious advice. By these exertions, as well as the 
labours of his study, he fell into a decline, attended 
with an almost incessant hectic cough, and much 
acute pain, which he supported with most exem- 
plary patience. 

In 1746, he published his "Meditations among the 
Tombs," and " Reflections on a Flower Garden ;" 
and the following year appeared the " Contempla- 
tions on the Night and Starry Heavens ;" and "A 
Winter Piece." The sublime sentiments in these 
pieces, are conveyed in a flowing and elegant style. 
They have been much read ; and are eminently 
calculated to cherish pious and grateful emotions 
towards the God of nature, and the Source of 
every blessing. In 1775, he published his ** The- 
ron and Aspasio, or a Series of Letters and Di?i- 
logues on the most Important Subjects." He was 
the author of several other works, which bear the 
marks of genius, and of a truly benevolent and 
religious mind. 

His moral character was highly exemplary 
his temper placid, disinterested, unafiectedly 
humble ; and in his transactions with others, he 



288 JAMES HERVEY. 

was ever clieerful, punctual, jusl, and candid to 
persons of every denomination. lie sometimes 
met with very cross occurrences ; but he ever rose 
above them : he was never known to be in a pas- 
sion. His humiHty rendered him invulnerable. 
When he was misrepresented and calumniated, 
he used to say : " Our enemies are sometimes our 
best friends, and tell us useful truths ; and then 
we should amend our faults, and be thanliful for 
such information. If what they say be not true, 
and spoken from malice only, then such persons 
are to be considered as diseased in their minds, 
and ought to be prayed for. They are to be pitied ; 
and I might as justly be angry with men who are 
diseased in their bodies." All this he spoke with 
humility, seriousness, and great sweetness of spir- 
it : for it was the language of his heart, and not 
of affectation. 

In actions of benevolence and charity, though 
he had some equals, it is certain that he had no 
superiors, as far as his means extended. He pre- 
ferred clothing the poor, and supplying them 
with necessary articles, on the best terms, to 
giving them money. " I am," said he " God's 
steward for the poor; and I must husband the 
little pittance I have to bestow upon them, and 
make it go as far as possible." But, on special 
occasions, when money would be particularly 
useful, he would give to a prudent housekeeper, 



JAMES IIERVEY. 289 

distressed by siclmess or misfortunes, five or more 
guineas at a time ; and he was, on all proper occa- 
sions, careful that it should not be known from 
whom the money came. 

By his last will, he bequeathed the future prof- 
its of all his works, to benevolent uses ; except- 
ing his " Meditations," the copy of which he sold 
during his lifetime, and applied the sums arising 
from its sale and former impressions, amounting 
to about seven hundred pounds, to the relief of 
the poor and distressed. He said that this money 
was devoted to God ; and that he would, on no 
account, apply it to worldly uses ; that he wrote, 
not for profit or fame, but to serve the cause of 
religion : and as Providence had blessed his at- 
tempts, he thought himself bound to relieve the 
distresses of his fellow-creatures, with the product 
of his labours. 

The cultivation of real religion and holiness, 
in heart and life, which this good man strenu- 
ously recommended, induced some persons to 
charge him with holding tenets injurious to so- 
ciety, and calculated to make men melanchol)% 
and regardless of the lawful concerns of this 
world. But every charge of this nature, is abun- 
dantly refuted by his writings, and the whole 
tenour of his life ; and particularly by an ex- 
cellent and striking passage, in his " Contem 

25 



290 JAMES IIERVEY. 

plations on the Starry Heavens ;" from which the 
following lines are extracted : — 

" Some, I believe, are apt to imagine, that 
they must abandon all the satisfactions of this 
world, if they become zealous candidates for 
the felicity of another, — But this is a very mis- 
taken notion. Religion was never intended to 
strike off the wheels of business, or to cut asunder 
the sinews of industry ; but rather, to make men 
industrious from a principle of conscience, not 
from the instigations of avarice ; that so they 
may promote their immortal happiness, even 
while they provide for their temporal maintenance. 
It has no desiga to extirpate our passions, but 
only to restrain their irregularities : neither would 
it extinguish the delights of sense, but prevent 
them from evaporating into vanity, and subsid- 
ing into gall. A person may be cheerful among 
his friends, and yet joyful in God. He may taste 
the sweets of this earthly estate ; and, at the same 
time, cherish his hopes of a nobler inheritance in 
heaven." 

Though this sincere Christian was ardent and 
laborious, in serving his Great Master, and in 
promoting the religious welfare of his fellow- 
creatures ; yet he had a very humble sense of his 
own services ; and expressed to his friends, during 
his indisposition, great regret that he had not 



JAMES HERVEY. 291 

embraced every opportunity afforded him, to 
advance the cause of his Redeemer. These 
expressions were made with much tenderness of 
spirit, and were accompanied with tears. But 
lest his sentiments and views should be misinter- 
preted, he added : " Do not think, that I am afraid 
to die. I assure you, I am not. I know what 
my Saviour hath done for me, and I long to be 
dismissed. But I wonder at the love of Christ, 
in doing so much for me ; and lament to think how 
little I have done for him." 

On a particular occasion, when his physician 
was taking his leave, he observed to him, with 
great affection and sensibility, that as he had, 
not long before, a dangerous fall from his horse, 
by which he was much bruised ; and as he had 
been lately ill, and then looked very pale ; he 
hoped he would reflect on those narrow escapes, 
so often fatal to others, as a kind of warning from 
God to him, and remember them as such ; adding : 
" How careful ought we to be, to improve those 
years which remain, at a time of life when but 
few can remain for us !" 

The last illness of this truly excellent man com- 
menced in the autumn of the year 1758; and, in 
a few months, made a great and affecting prog- 
ress. His strength became exhausted, his body 
extremely emaciated, and his whole frame so 



292 JAMES HERVEY. 

sore, that he could scarcely bear to be touched, 
when it was necessary to move him. Yet, under 
all this calamity, he was ever praising God for 
his mercies, and for enduing him with patience. — 
About three hours before his death, he strongly 
and affectionately urged a friend of his who was 
present, to pay all due attention to the care of 
his everlasting concerns, as here there is no 
abiding place, no continuing city. He entreated 
him not to be overcharged with the cares of this 
life ; but to attend, amidst the multiplicity of 
his business, to the '* one thing needful." The 
physician observing the great difficulty and pain 
with wnicli he spoke, (for he was almost suffocated 
with phlegm and frequent vomitings,) and per- 
ceiving by his pulse, that the pangs of death 
were coming on, desired that he would spare 
himself. " No," said he, " doctor, no. You tell 
me I have but a few moments to live : Oh ! let 
me spend them in adoring our great Redeemer." 
He then repeated the 26th verse of the 73d psalm : 
*' Though my flesh and my heart fail me, yet God 
is the strength of my heart, and my portion for 
ever :" and he expatiated in a most striking man- 
ner, on these words of the Apostle : " All things 
are yours, life and death ; for ye are Christ's." 
" Here," said he, " is the treasure of a Christian. 
Death is reckoned in this inventory ; and a noble 
treasure it is. How thankful am I for death, as 
it is the passage through which I go to the Lord 



f 



JAMES IIERVEY. 293 

and Giver of eternal life ; and as it frees me from 
all the misery you now see me endure, and which 
I am willing to endure, as long as God thinks 
fit : for I know he will, by-and-by, in his own 
good time, dismiss me from the body. These 
light afflictions are but for a moment, and then 
comes an eternal weight of glory. O ! welcome, 
welcome death ! Thou mayest well be reckoned 
among the treasures of the Christian. To live is 
Christ, but to die is gain." 

After these expressions, as the doctor was 
taking his final leave of him, the dying saint ex- 
pressed great gratitude for his visits and atten- 
tions, though it had been long out of the power 
of medicines to cure him. Ke then paused a 
little ; and being raised in his chair, he, with 
great serenity and sweetness of countenance, 
though the pangs of death were upon him, re- 
peated these words : " Lord, now lettest thou thy 
servant depart in peace, according to thy most 
holy and comfortable word, for mine eyes have 
seen thy salvation.'* 

In about an hour after he had uttered these ex- 
pressions, he yielded up his pious soul to God, 
without a sigh or struggle, in the forty-fifth year 
of his age. 



25* 



SECTION VII. 
ALTAMONT; 

OR, THE DEATH OF THE LIBERTI>rE. 

The following account of an affecting mournful 
exit, and the rejfiections that accompany it, are 
solemn and impressive. We shall present them 
to the reader, in the words of Doctor Young, who 

w^as present at the melancholy scene : — 

*' Is not the death-bed of a profligate a prime 
school of wisdom ? Are we not obliged, when we 
are invited to it ? for what else should reclaim 
us? The pulpit? We are prejudiced against it. 
Besides, an agonizing profligate, though silent, 
outpreaches the most celebrated the pulpit ever 
Knew. But, if he speaks, his w^ords might instruct 
the best instructers of mankind. Mixed in the 
warm converse of life, w^e think w^ith men ; on a 
death-bed, with God. 

" There are two lessons of this school written, as 
it w^ere, in capitals, w^hich they who run may read. 
First, he that, in this his minority, this field of 
discipline and conflict, instead of grasping the 
w^eapons of his warfare, is for ever gathering 
flowers, and catching at butterflies, wuth his un- 
armed hand, ever making idle pleasure his pur- 
suit ; must pay for it his vast reversion : and on 

294 



ALTAMONT. 295 

opening his final account, (of which a death-bed 
breaks the seal,) shall find himself a beggar, a 
beggar past beggary ; and shall passionately wish 
that his very being were added to the rest of his 
loss. Secondly, he shall find, that truth, divine 
truth, however, through life, injured, wounded, 
suppressed, is victorious, immortal : that, though 
with mountains overwhelmed, it will, one day, 
burst out like the fires of Etna ; visible, bright, 
tnd tormenting, as the most raging flame. This 
low (oh, my friend !) I shall too plainly prove. 

" The sad evening before the death of the 
poble youth, whose last hours suggested these 
thoughts, I was with him. No one was present 
lut his physician, and an intimate whom he loved, 
and whom he had ruined. At my coming in, he 
said : * You and the physician are come too late. 
I have neither life nor hope. You both aim at 
miracles. You would raise the dead !' Heaven, 
I said, was merciful — * Or,' exclaimed he, * I could 
not have been thus guilty. What has it not done 
to bless, and to save me ! — I have been too strong 
for Omnipotence ! I have plucked down ruin.' — 
I s?id, the blessed Redeemer, — * Hold ! hold ! 
you wound me ! — That is the rock on which I 
split : — I denied his name !' 

" Refusing to hear any thing from me, or take 
any thing from the physician, he lay silent, as far 



296 ALTAMONT. 

as sudden darts of pain would permit, till the 
clock struck : then with vehemence he exclaimed ; 
' Oh ! time ! time ! it is fit thou shouldst thus 
strike thy murderer to the heart ! How art thou 
fled for ever ! — A month ! — Oh, for a single week * 
I ask not for years ; though an age were too little 
for the much I have to do.' On my saying, we 
could not do too much : that heaven was a blessed 
place — * So much the worse.— 'Tis lost ! 'tis lost ! — 
Heaven is to me the severest place of hell !' 

" Soon after, I proposed prayer : — * Pray you 
that can. I never prayed. I cannot pray — nor 
need I. Is not heaven on my side already ? It 
closes with my conscience. Its severest strokes 
but second my own.' Observing that his friend 
was much touched at this, even to tears — (who 
could forbear 1 I could not — ) with a most affec- 
tionate look, he said, * Keep those tears for thy- 
self. I have undone thee, — Dost thou weep for 
me ? that is cruel. What can pain me more V 

" Here his friend, too much affected, would liave 
left him. — ^ No, stay — thou still mayst hope ; 
therefore hear me. How madly have I talked ! 
How madly hast thou listened, and believed ! but 
look on my present state, as a full answer to thee, 
and to myself. This body is all weakness and 
pain ; but my soul, as if stung up by torment to 
greater strength and spirit, is full powerful to 



ALTAMONT. 297 

reason; full mighty to suffer. And that which 
thus triumphs within the jaws of immortahty, is, 
doubtless, immortal — And, as for a Deity, nothing 
less than an Almighty could inflict what I feel. 

" I was about to congratulate this passive mvol- 
untary confessor, on his asserting the two prime 
articles of his creed, extorted by the rack of nature, 
when he thus very passionately exclaimed : * No, 
no -! let me speak on. I have not long to speak, 
— My much injured friend ! my soul, as my body, 
lies in ruins ; in scattered fragments of broken 
thought — Remorse for the past, throw^s my th ught 
on the future. Worse dread of the future, strikes 
it back on the past. I turn, and turn, and find 
no ray. Didst thou feel half the mountain that is 
on me, thou wouldst struggle with the martyr for 
his stake ; and bless Heaven for the flames ; that 
is not an everlasting flame ; that is not an un- 
quenchable fire.' 

" How were we struck ! yet, soon after, still 
more. With what an eye of distraction, what a face 
of despair, he cried out : ' My principles have 
poisoned my friend ! my extravagance has beg- 
gared my boy ! my unkindness has murdered my 
wife ! — And is there another hell ? Oh ! thou 
blasphemed, yet indulgent Lord God ! hell 
itself is a refuge, if it hide me from th)^ frown !' 
Soon after, his understanding failed. His terrified 



298 ALTAMONT. 

imagination uttered horrors not to be repeated, or 
ever forgotten. And ere the sun (which, I hope, 
has seen few Hke him) arose, the gay, young, 
noble, ingenious, accomplished, and most wretched 
Altamont expired ! 

" If this is a man of pleasure, what is a man of 
pain ? How quick, how total, is the transit of such 
persons ! In what a dismal gloom they set for ever ! 
How short, alas ! the day of their rejoicing !— -^For 
a moment they glitter — they dazzle ! In a moment 
w^here are they ? Oblivion covers their memories. 
Ah ! would it did ! Infamy snatches them from 
oblivion. In the long-living annals of infamy 
their triumphs are recorded. Thy suJBferings, poor 
Altamont ! still bleed in the bosom of the heart- 
stricken friend — ^for Altamont had a friend. He 
might have had many. His transient morning 
might have been the dawn of an immortal day. 
His name might have been gloriously enrolled in 
the records of eternity. His memory might have 
left a sweet fragrance behind it, grateful to the 
surviving friend, salutary to the succeeding gene- 
ration. With what capacity was he endowed ! 
with what advantages for being greatly good ! 
But with the talents of an angel, a man may be a 
fool. If he judges amiss in the supreme point, 
judging right in aU else, but aggravates his folly : 
as it shows him wrong, though blessed with the 
best capacity of being right." 



CHAPTER X. 

Baron Haller — John Howard — Newton's Letters — 

Margaret M. Althens Zimmerman James Hay 

Beattie Elizabeth Smith Elizabeth Carter 

Sir William Jones Conclusion. 



SECTION I. 



BARON HALLER. 



Albert Haller, one of the most illustrious 
literary characters of his age, was the son of a 
citizen and advocate of Benie, where he was born, 
in the year 1708. The accounts of his early dis- 
play of talents, are as extraordinary as almost any 
upon record. He chose the medical profession, in 
which he became very eminent. He was an anat- 
omist, a physiologist, and a botanist, of the first 
order. It is not too much to say of him, that he 
was one of the best informed men in Europe. He 
wrote and spoke, with equal facility, the German, 
French, and Latin languages ; and read all the 
other tongues of civilized Europe, except the 
Sclavonic dialects. His acquaintance with books 
was so extensive, that it would be difficult to point 
out any of the least note, which he had not perused, 

299 



300 BAROX H.\LLER. 

and of which the contents did not dwell upon his 
memory. He was a poet, too, of distinguished 
merit. The critics of Germany reckon Haller 
among the first who gave sublimity, richness, and 
harmony, to their poetical language ; and who 
described nature in its true colours. 

The talents and knowledge of Haller, his 
works in various departments of science and litera- 
ture, and his unblemished integrity and virtue, 
rendered him, in the highest degree, respectable 
among the learned of Europe ; and his friend- 
ship and correspondence were courted by the 
most celebrated men of his time. He w^as pro- 
fessor of medicine in the university of Oottingen. 
He filled successively the botanical, chymical, 
and anatomical chairs ; and raised the reputation 
of the university to a very high pitch. There he 
resided near seventeen years ; and then returned 
to Berne, his native place, where he was elected 
a member of the sovereign council ; and enjoyed 
the first authority in the administration of public 
affairs, till the time of his death, which took place 
in the year 1777. 

This great and good man, in the early part of 
his life, had doubts concerning the objects of the 
Christian faith. But these doubts were dispelled, 
by a successful application to every branch of 
science, on the one hand ; and by a candid exam- 



BAEON ilALLER. 301 

illation of the sacred oracles, on the other. The 
first, by "purging his soul, according to his own 
emphatic phrase, of arrogance and pride, filled it 
with true poverty of spirit. The second con- 
vinced him that the divine revelation, conveyed 
in the Holy Scriptures, is a boon worthy of the 
merciful Author of our nature to give ; and such 
as is fit for guilty mortals to receive, with humble 
gratitude and reverence. 

There are hours of mental depression in human 
life, which can neither be prevented nor remedied, 
by the most prosperous worldly circumstances, or 
by the greatest skill of man. The healing art, 
which Haller applied with singular success to the 
diseases of the body, could not, as he experienced 
in his own case, reach that dissatisfaction w^ith the 
present, and that apprehension of a future state, 
which so frequently disturb the breasts of man- 
kind. But he found other aids, which proved a 
sovereign remedy to all his fears and depressions. 
The divine laws were to him a delightful subject 
of attention, and a joyful object of hope. His con- 
fidence in the goodness of God, refreshed his mind ; 
and so fortified it, that he contemplated, without 
dismay, the king of terrors. 

The consolations which he felt himself, lie was 
anxious to impart to others. In imitation of the 
Saviour of the world, he wenl about doing good 
26 



302 BARON HALLER. 

to the souls and the bodies of men. He eagerly 
seized the numberless opportunities, which his 
profession as a physician gave him, of convincing 
those with whom he conversed, of the truth, and 
of converting them to the practice, of the Chris- 
tian religion. And this he did, not only by his 
instructions, but by his example. For he was 
charitable to the poor ; he sympathized in the 
tenderest manner with the distressed ; and was 
humane and just in all his dealings with the sons 
of men. 

A thousand incidents, which passed unheeded 
by the vulgar eye, recalled to his mind the Deity. 
And when he recollected or heard that great 
namey he gave way, in whatever company or cir- 
cumstances he happened to be placed, to some 
pious ejaculations, with his eyes and hands lifted 
up towards heaven. 

While his feeling mind embraced in the bonds 
of love all his fellow-creatures, and interested liim 
in their present and future concerns, there was 
one person, whom God and nature had recom- 
mended to his peculiar tenderness and care. He 
had a daughter, dear to him as his own soul. He 
knew the inquietudes, to which the common lot 
of humanity would subject her through life ; and 
the fears that would alarm her tender breast at the 
approach of death, of which it was some consola- 



BARON HALLER. 303 

tion to him, that " he should not hve to be the 
mournful witness." To her he addressed, at dif- 
ferent times, but in a regular succession, a num- 
ber of letters, on the truths of the Christian Reli- 
gion. They were afterwards, by his permission, 
published for the benefit of the world at large. 
The work possesses great merit ; and is particu- 
larly proper for the perusal and study of young 
persons. 

We shall conclude our account of Baron Haller, 
with an extract from the last letter contained in 
the publication just mentioned. It marks the 
writer's high sense of the importance of religion ; 
his solicitude for his daughter's happiness ; and 
his strong confidence in the future rewards of 
piety and virtue : — - 

" Let us employ the time that is present : eter- 
nity will be our reward, if we make a good use of 
it Let us always have before our eyes, the na- 
ture and consequences of sin : let us remember 
that it will deprive us of the favour of God, and 
expose us to his displeasure. Reflect on the value 
of that life and immortality, which Christ has 
brought to light by the gospel. The enjoyments 
of this present short life, which are indeed but 
puerile amusements, must disappear, wlien placed 
in competition with the greatness and durability 
of the glory which is to come. 



304 BARON IIALLER. 

^' By the mercy of God, we are restored from the 
lowest state of abasement and dejection. We are 
animated with the most comfortable promises. 
We now walk with confidence in that road, which 
has been marked out for us with so much wisdom : 
and which so well corresponds with our new de- 
sires and abilities. We leave behind us those 
vices which tended to estrange us from God and 
happiness : before us is a benevolent Being, who 
offers to the victorious, incorruptible crowns, as 
the recompense of victory ; which victory he also 
helps us to gain. We may now rest satisfied with 
respect to our future condition, without per- 
plexing ourselves about the trials we shall have 
to undergo, and which are yet at a distance 
Let us be careful to employ to advantage the pres- 
ent hour. The means of salvation, the sacred 
writings, the precepts of our Saviour, are in our 
hands. We insensibly draw near to the desired 
harbour; the approaches of dissolution become 
less formidable, the nearer v^e advance to the 
happy mansions of eternity, where eiror and vice 
will be disaimed, and have no more powei 
over us. 

" Receive, my daughter, these most important of 
all truths, from a father, who considers himself on 
the verge of life : they are the most precious 
marks of tenderness which he can give you. 
These instructions would have been less imperfect, 



BARON HALLER. 305 

if his capacity had been more extensive. They 
are, however, the result of his reflections, and of 
the researches which he has made after truth : 
they are also the effect of his internal conviction. 
Your father who now addresses you, has had his 
doubts ; he has sometimes been mistaken ; and 
has wished, in those moments, that the conse- 
quences of sin were not so grievous. He has not 
been exempt from falling: but the victorious 
grace of God has kindly come to his relief. — 
The king of terrors approaches me with hasty 
steps : but I behold his advances without dismay. 
Beyond that era of my existence, I see objects 
of joy and hope, which invite me to leave this 
world, and to step forward into eternity ; into 
mansions of holiness and bliss, where death shall 
be banished for ever, and where sin shall have no 
place. After having finished your course, you 
will, I trust, again meet your father, in those 
glorious and peaceful abodes, where the idea of 
our frail mortality shall no longer disturb our 
breasts, or fill them with shame ; and where the 
miseries of this liff shall no longer draw tears 

from our eyes." 

26* 



SECTION II. 



JOHN HOWARD. 



John Howard, the indefatigable friend of the 
poor and unfortunate, was born at Hackney, in the 
year 1726. Of his character and pious labours, 
Dr. Aikin speaks in the following terms : — 

" Among those truly illustrious persons who, 
in the several ages and nations of the world, have 
marked their track through life, by a continued 
course of doing good, few have been so distin- 
guished either by the extent of the good pro- 
duced, or by the purity of motive and energy of 
character exhibited in the process of doing it, as the 
late John Howard. To have adopted the cause 
of the prisoner, the sick, and the destitute, not 
only in his own country, but throughout Europe ; 
to have considerably alleviated the burden of pres 
ent misery among those unfortunate classes, and, 
at the same time, to have provided for the reform- 
ation of the vicious, and the prevention of fu- 
ture crimes and calamities ; to have been instru- 
mental in the actual establishment of many plans 
of humanity and utility, and to have laid the 

306 



JOHN HOWARrf 307 

foundation for much more improvement hereafter ; 
and to have done all this, as a private, unaided, in- 
dividual, struggling with toils, dangers, and diffi- 
culties, which might have appalled the most reso- 
lute ; is surely a range of beneficence, which 
scarcely ever before came within the compass of 
one man's exertions." 

Attachment to religion was a principle which 
had been imbibed by Howard in his youth ; and 
which continued steady and uniform through life. 
Though he seems early to have made up his 
mind, as to the doctrines he thought best founded, 
and the mode of worship he most approved, yet 
religion abstractly considered, as the relation be- 
tween man and his Maker, and the grand support 
of morality, appears to have been the principal 
object of his regard. This excellent principle 
enlarged his heart, and led him to commiserate 
tlie distresses of his fellow-creatures of every de- 
scription ; and at length prompted him to devote 
his life to the relief of suffering humanity. 

Deeply impressed with a sense of the impor- 
tance of his designs, and of the uncertainty of hu- 
man life, he was desirous of doing as much as 
possible within the allotted limits. And the num- 
ber of prisons and hospitals which he visited, in 
a short period of time, is surprising. The pious 
and well-governed disposition by which he was 



308 JOHN HOWARD. 

actuated, is forcibly expressed in the following 
passage extracted from one of his interesting pub- 
lications : — 

** To my country I commit the result of my 
past labours. It is my intention again to quit it, 
for the purpose of revisiting Russia, Turkey, and 
some other countries, and extending my tour in 
the east. I am not insensible of the dangers that 
must attend such a journey. Trusting, however, 
in the protection of that kind Providence which 
has hitherto preserved me, I calmly and cheer- 
fully commit myself to the disposal of unerring 
Wisdom. Should it please God to cut off my life 
in the prosecution of this design, let not my con- 
duct be uncandidly imputed to rashness or en- 
thusiasm : but to a serious, deliberate conviction, 
that I am pursuing the path of duty ; and to a sin- 
cere desire of being made an instrument of greater 
usefulness to my fellow-creatures, than could be 
expected in the narrow circle of a retired life." 

A little before the last time of his leaving Eng- 
land, when a friend expressed his concern at part- 
ing with him, from an apprehension that they 
should never meet again, he cheerfully replied : — 
**We shall soon meet in heaven;" and, as he 
rather expected to die of the plague in Egypt, he 
added : " The way to heaven from Grand Cairo, is 
as near as from London." He said he was per- 



JOHN HOWARD/ 309 

fectly easy as to the event ; and made use of the 
words of Father Paul, who, when his physicians 
told him he had not long to live, said : " It is well : 
whatever pleases God, pleases me." 

That in his singular and extensive course of 
beneficence he was not influenced by a desire of 
attracting the notice, or gaining the applause, of 
his fellow-creatures, appears from his general life 
and conduct ; and is particularly evident, from the 
spirit and firmness with which he opposed the 
design, formed by many persons of distinction in 
this country, to erect a statue, or some other monu- 
ment, to his honour. 

The following passages are selected from some 
of his letters on this subject : — '' To hasten to the 
other very distressing affair ; oh, why could not 
my friends, who know how much I detest such 
parade, have stopped so hasty a measure ! As a 
private man with some peculiarities, I wished to 
retire into obscurity and silence. Indeed, my 
friend, I cannot bear the thought of being thus 
dragged out. I immediately wrote ; and I hope 
something may be done to stop it. My best friends 
must disapprove the measure. It deranges and 
confounds all my schemes ; my exaltation is my 
fall, my misfortune. — My best and most inti- 
mate friends have, I see by the papers, been so 
kind as not to subscribe to what you so justly term 



310 JOHN HOWARD. 

a hasty measure. Indeed, if nothing now can be 
done — I speak from my heart — never poor crea* 
ture was more dragged out in public." That in 
all this there was no affectation, clearly appeared 
from the letter he sent to the subscribers ; in 
which, after expressing his gratitude, he displayed 
so determined a repugnance against admitting the 
proposed honour, deprecating it as the severest of 
punishments, that nothing could be urged in reply, 
and the business was dropped. 

Whilst this great and good man was ardently 
labouring for the relief of distress, it pleased 
Divine Providence to suffer him to fall a victim 
to a disease, supposed to be the plague, at Cherson, 
in the beginning of the year 1790. He was per 
fectly sensible, during his illness, except at short 
intervals, till within a very few hours before his 
death. He was fully prepared for the event, and 
often said, that he had no wish for life, but as 
it gave him the means of relieving his fellow- 
creatures. 

A celebrated orator* has passed so fine a eulo- 
gium on the character of this excellent man, that 
we insert it with particular satisfaction : — 

— "I cannot name this gentleman without re- 
marking, that his labours and writings have done 

* Burke. 



JOHN HOWARD. 31 I 

much to open the eyes and hearts of mankind. 
He has visited all Europe, — not to survey the 
sumptuousness of palaces, or the stateliness of 
temples ; not to make accurate measurements of 
the remains of ancient grandeur, nor to form a 
scale of the curiosity of modern art, nor to collect 
medals, or collate manuscripts : — but to dive into 
the depths of dungeons ; to plunge into the in- 
fection of hospitals ; to survey the mansions of 
sorrow and pain ; to take the gauge and dimensions 
of misery, depression, and contempt ; to remember 
the forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit 
the forsaken, and compare and collate the dis- 
tresses of all men in all countries. His plan is 
original : it is as full of genius as it is of humanity. 
It was a voyage of discovery ; a circumnavigation 
of charity. Already the benefit of his labour is 
felt more or less in every country : I hope he will 
anticipate his final reward, by seeing all its effects 
fully realized in his own." 

We shall conclude the account of this benevo- 
lent man, with a few beautiful lines, written on 
his death, by Dr. Aikin : — 

Howard, thy task is done ! thy Master calls , 
And summons thee from Cherson's distant walls. 
" Come, well-approved ! my faithful servant come ! 
No more a wand'rer, seek thy destined home. 
Long have I marked thee, with o'erruling eye, 
And sent admiring angels from on high, 



512 JOHN HOWARD. 

To walk the paths of danger by thy side, 

From death to shield thee, and through snares to guide. 

My minister of good, I've sped the way, 

And shot through dungeon glooms a leading ray, 

To cheer, by thee, with kind unhoped relief. 

My creatures lost and whelmed in guilt and grief. 

I've led thee, ardent, on through wond'ring climes, 

To combat human woes and human crimes. 

But 'tis enough ! — thy great commission 's o'er ; 

I prove thy faith, thy love, thy zeal, no more. 

Nor droop, that far from country, kindred, friends, 

Thy life, to duty long devoted, ends : 

What boots it where the high reward is giv'n, 

Or whence the soul triumphant springs to heav'n." 



Dr. Aikin has written a judicious and interesting account of 
John Howard, under the title of ** A View of the Character of 
John Howard, Esq.," to which we refer the reader for farther m- 
formation, respecting this truly pious and worthy man. 



>ai! 



SECTION III. 



NEWTON'S LETTERS. 



The .following interesting examples tpf^ lb e pow- 
er of religion, on the ngtipds of persons in humble 
life, are extracted from a work entitled, " Cardi- 
phonia, or the Utterance of the Heart :"* 

" Though the grand evidence of those tmths 
upon which our hopes are built, arises from the 
authority of God declaring them in his word, and 
revealing them by his Spirit to the awakened 
heart ; (for till the heart is awakened, it is inca- 
pable of receiving this evidence ;) yet some of 
these truths are so mysterious, so utterly repug- 
nant to the judgment of depraved nature, that 
through the remaining influence of unbelief and 
vain reasoning, the temptations of Satan, and the 
subtle arguments with which some men, reputed 
wise, attack the foundations of our faith, the 
minds even of believers are sometimes capable of 
being shaken. I know no better corroborating 
evidence, for the relief of the mind under such 
assaults, than the testimony of dying persons ; 



•By John Newton, Rector of St. Afary, Woolnoth, TiOndon. 

27 313 



314 Newton's letters. 

especially of such as have lived out of the noise 
of controvers}^ and who, perhaps, never heard 
a syllable of what has been started in these evil 
days, against some of the important articles of 
the Christian Faith. 

" Permit me, my lord, to relate, upon this oc- 
casion,- -sen^ie things which exceedingly struck ^m.e, 
in the conversation I h^d" with a young woman, 
whom I visited in her last illness about two years 
ago. She was a sober, prudent person, of plain 
sense ; she could read the Bible, but had read little 
besides. Her knowledge of the world was nearly 
confined to the parish ; for I suppose she was sel 
dom, if ever, twelve miles from home. She had 
known the Gospel about seven years before the 
Lord visited her with a lingering consumption, 
which, at length, removed her to a better world. 
A few days previous to her death, in prayer by 
her bedside, I thanked the Lord, that he gave 
her now to see that she had not followed cun- 
ningly-devised fables. When I had finished, she 
repeated that expression : * No,' said she, * not 
cunningly-devised fables ; these are realities in- 
deed ; I feel their truth ; I feel their comfort. O, 
tell my friends, tell my acquaintance, tell inqui- 
ring souls, tell poor sinners, tell all the daughters 
of Jerusalem,' alluding to Solomon's Song, 
* what Jesus has done for my soul ! Tell them, 
that now, in the time of need, I find him my Be- 



newtojs's letters. 315 

loved, and my Friend ; and, as such, I commend 
him to them,' 

" She then fixed her eyes steadfastly upon me, 
and proceeded, to the best of my recollection, as 
follows : ^ Sir, you are highly favoured, in being 
called to preach the Gospel. I have often heard 
you with pleasure ; but give me leave to tell you, 
that I now see all you have said, or that you can 
say, is comparatively but little. Nor till you 
come into my situation, and have death and eter- 
nity full in your view, will it be possible for you 
to conceive the vast weight and importance of the 
truths you declare. Oh ! sir, it is a serious thing to 
die ; no words can express what is needful to sup- 
port the soul in the solemnity of a dying hour.' 

" When I visited her again, she said : * I feel 
that my hope is fixed upon the Rock of Ages : 1 
know in whom I have believed. But the approach 
of death presents a prospect which is, till then, 
hidden from us, and which cannot be described.' 
She said much more to the same purpose : and in 
all she spoke, there were dignity, weight, and 
evidence. We may well say, with Elihu, 'Who 
teacheth like the Lord !' 

" Many instances of the hke kind I have met 
with here. I have a poor girl near me, whose 
natural capacity is very small ; but the Lord lias 



316 

been pleased to make her acquainted alternately 
with great temptations, and proportionably great 
discoveries of his love and truth : sometimes, when 
her heart is enlarged, I listen to her with astonish 
ment. I think no books or ministers I ever met 
with, have given me such an impression and under- 
standing *of what the Apostle styles, 'the deep 
things of God,' as I have, upon some occasions, 
received from her conversation. 

" We have lost another of the people here : a 
person of much experience, eminent grace, wis- 
dom, and usefulness. She walked with God forty 
years. She was one of the Lord's poor ; but her 
poverty was decent, sanctified, and honourable. 
She lived respected, and her death is considered 
as a public loss. It is a great loss to me ; I shall 
miss her advice and example, by which I have 
been often edified and animated. Almost the last 
words she uttered were : * The Lord is my portion, 
saith my soul.' 

" My attendance upon the sick is not always 
equally comfortable ; but could I learn aright, it 
might be equally instructive. Some confirm to 
me the preciousness of a Saviour, by the cheerful- 
ness with which, through faith in his name, they 
meet the king of terrors. Others no less confirm 
it, by the terror and reluctance they discover, 
when they find they must die. For though there 



Newton's letters. 317 

are too many who sadly slight the blessed Gospel, 
while they are in health, yet, in this place, most 
are too far enlightened to be quite thoughtless 
about their souls, in their last illness, if they retain 
their senses. Then, like the foolish virgins, they 
say, ' Give us of your oil !' 

" Through the Lord's goodness, several whom I 
have visited in these circumstances, have afforded 
me a comfortable hope. I have seen a marvel- 
lous and blessed change take place, in a few days, 
in their language, views, and temper. I now visit 
a young person, who is cut short in her nineteenth 
year, by a consumption, and who I think cannot 
live many days. I found her very ignorant and 
insensible, and she remained so a good while ; but 
of late, I hope, her heart is touched. She feels 
her lost state ; she seems to have some right de- 
sires ; and I cannot but think the Lord is teaching 
her, and will reveal himself to her before she 
departs. 

*' But the scene is sometimes different. I saw 
a young woman die the last week. I had been 
often with her ; but the night she was removed, 
she could only say, ' O, I cannot live ! I cannot 
live !' She repeated this mournful complaint as long 
as she could speak : for, as the vital powers were 
more oppressed, her voice changed into groans ; 
her gi'oans grew fainter and fainter ; and in about a 



318 Newton's letters. 

quarter of an hour after she had done speaking, 
she expired. Poor creature ! said I to myself, as 
I stood by her bedside, if you were a dutchess, in 
this situation, what could the w^orld do for you 
now ? I thought, likewise, how many things are 
there that now give us pleasure or pain, and as- 
sume a mighty importance in our view, which, in a 
dying hour, will be no more to us, than the clouds 
that fly unnoticed over our heads ! Then the truth 
of our Lord's declaration will be seen and felt, and 
acknowledged : ^ One thing is needful.' And we 
shall be ready to apply Grotius's djang confession 
to a great part of our lives : ^ Ah ! I have consumed 
my time, in laboriously doing nothing !' " 

How greatly does it exalt the mercy and 
goodness of the universal Parent of mankind, to 
perceive that his regard is equally towcirds his 
children and people, whatever may be their sta- 
tions and conditions in the world ! To the poor 
and illiterate, as well as to the rich and learned, 
the Gospel is preached ; and those of every class 
who become truly humble and poor in spirit, and 
those only, will cordially receive and rejoice in 
it. Learning and knowledge are, indeed, orna- 
ments and improvements of our nature ; and, as 
well as riches, rank, and influence, enable us to 
enlarge the sphere of our utility and beneficence : 
but it is not hence to be inferred, either, that these 
qualifications are not attended with peculiar dan- 



I 



» 



Newton's letters. 319 

gers, temptations, and inquietudes, or, that the 
Father of Spirits, who is just and equal in all his 
ways, regards their possessors with distinguished 
marks of his favour. The wisdom of Providence, 
to promote order and government in the earth, 
has, indeed, ordained a diversity of talents and 
conditions amongst men ; but he has also gra- 
ciously declared, that to the religious and faith- 
ful improvement, even of the fewest talents, shall 
be annexed the highest reward that can be con- 
ferred upon us ; namely, that of *' Well done, good 
and faithful servant ; enter thou into the joy of thy 
Lord." An humble and teachable disposition, a 
pious, upright, and benevolent temper of mind, are 
incomparably of greater worth, than all the accom- 
plishments and possessions of the world ; and they 
are the only attaiiunents which, in all degrees of 
knowledge, and in every station and condition of 
life, will procure the Divine favour, and advance 
us to real honour and happiness. 



SECTION IV. 



MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 



Margaret M. Althens, a person of great 
piety and virtue, w^as born in the year 1752. It 
appears that, from early life, she vi^as favoured 
with impressions of a religious nature ; and that the 
awful thoughts of heaven, hell, death, and eternity, 
engrossed much of her attention. Her father died 
when she was two and a half years old. Her 
mother being a German, she was educated in the 
language of that country, as well as in her native 
tongue ; and in the fifteenth year of her age, she 
was confirmed in the German chapel by Dr. 
Wachsell. " I must acknowledge,*' says she, " that 
he spared no pains to instruct me :n the great prin- 
ciples of religion. But the endeavour of man 
cannot reach the heart, unless influenced by the 
Spirit and power of God. Though I was confirm- 
ed, and admitted a member of the congregation, I 
knew no more what a change of heart meant, or 
an experimental knowledge of Jesus Christ, than 
one who had never heard of him." 

After this period, she appears, by her Memoirs, 
to have experienced great trials, temptations, and 

320 



MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 321 

mental distress. She became so deeply affected 
with the sense of her condition, that her heart was 
filled with despair. But it pleased the God of 
love and mercy to regard her with compassion, and 
to visit and strengthen her mind, by the gracious 
operations of his Holy Spirit. She was gradually 
enlightened, and enlarged in her religious views ; 
and, at length, obtained an establishment in the 
paths of piety and virtue ; and experienced a most 
consoling persuasion, that her heavenly Father 
would never forsake her. 

The subject of this article, who possessed a cul- 
tivated mind, was brought up with pleasing ex- 
pectations : but she participated in some of those 
vicissitudes which are so common in human life. 
For about seven years before her marriage, which 
took place in 1784, she lived in the capacit)^ of a 
servant. This humble situation was, however, so 
sweetened and sanctified to her by the blessing of 
God, that, in several parts of her Diary, she ex- 
presses great thankfulness to him, for those dis- 
pensations of his providence, which though pain- 
ful at the time, were necessary to her spiritual im- 
provement. She was thereby secluded from many 
temptations and snares, which she apprehended 
might otherwise have retarded her progress in the 
Christian life. Her state of dependance was, with- 
out doubt, less burdensome to lier, because her 
trust was in the Lord vvliom she served. 



322 MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 

The character of this excellent woman, who 
appears to have been happy in her marriage, is 
strongly portrayed, in two letters which she wrote 
to her husband, and which appear to have been 
intended for his perusal, after her decease. We 
presume they will be acceptable to the reader. 
They contain great piety, great resignation, and 
a triumphant faith in the mercy and acceptance 
of her God and Redeemer. They exhibit a lively 
and animating example of true conjugal affectic5fi ; 
and Christian desires for the best interests of a 
beloved partner, mingled with the joyful prospect 
of a blessed leunion of their spirits, in the man- 
sions of eternal peace. 

LETTER TO HER HUSBAND, NO. I. 

My most dearly beloved ! 

I frequently hear of the death of one and an- 
other in child-bed, which fills my mind with appre- 
hensions ; for what am I better than they, that I 
should expect more favour from the Lord ? 

The sun of prosperity has shone upon me for 
five years, and I have been blessed with one of 
the best of husbands ; which makes the thought 
of the parting stroke most sensibly painful to me. 
If it were not for the great realities of religion, I 
could not give up the beloved of my heart. All 
the powers of my soul are at work, when I think 
what your feelings will be, in the trying hour of 




MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 323 

separation. But, my dearest, grieve not as with- 
out hope. When a few years more have finished 
their course, I trust, through the merits of the 
great Redeemer, that we shall have a happy meet- 
ing in our heavenly Father's house. Then, part- 
ing, sighs, and tears, shall be no more. Then, I 
humbly hope, we shall be for ever united, in singing 
the song of Moses and the Lamb. 

The Almighty, who by a chain of providences 
brought us together, and only lent me to you for a 
short space, has an undoubted right to recall me 
when he pleases. Very pleasant hast thou been 
to me in life, and in death we shall not be divided. 
You will shed a tear to my memory, when you 
reflect on the many, yea, I may say, very many, 
happy hours we have spent, and the endearing 
conversation we have had together. But the sub- 
ject is too delicate ; I must not dwell on it. Those 
seasons are now past. They are vanished^ like 
the morning cloud, or early dew. Nothing now 
presents itself to me, but sorrow, anguish, weepmg 
friends, the gloomy appendages of death, and an 
opening grave. 

This is a dreary prospect ; but, blessed be 
God, here it ejids. Beyond the grave, the scenes 
are bright and happy. My reconciled God in 
Christ Jesus, will receive me, place a crown of 
glory upon uiy head, and fix my abode for ever 



324 MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 

among tlie sons of light. Angels wait their com- 
mission to conduct me to the New Jerusalem above ; 
when, with a golden harp, and a palm of victory, 1 
shall shine a monument of mercy. 

There shall I wait the happy period of your ar- 
rival. Let this consideration restrain your tears : 
your sincerely affectionate -wife is not dead, but 
sleepeth. You may commit my body to the 
ground, in sure and certain hope of a joyful resur- 
rection. When you are performing the last kind 
oifices of affection, I shall be rejoicing before the 
throne of God, drinking of the rivers of pleasure 
that are at his right hand. 

If I should leave a helpless infant, you will take 
care of it, and let it be brought up with the rest, 
m the nurture and admonition of the Lord. I am 
not solicitous to have my children great ; but it is 
my earnest wish and prayer, that they may be 
good. My beloved, press forward, a glorious prize 
awaits you. Be faithful unto death, and you shall 
obtain it. If you see me in my coffin, rejoice over 
me, and say : What was mortal the worms shall 
destroy; but her soul, arrayed in the robe of tlie 
Redeemer's righteousness, lives, to die no more. 
Death is swallowed up in victory. We fall, we 
rise, we reign ! 

May the God of my youtli, the protector of my 



MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 325 

advancing years, and the support of my now de- 
clining days, keep you under the shadow of his 
almighty wings ! May he be your guard and 
guide through life, your comfort in the hour of 
dissolution, and your portion and happiness through 
the ages of eternity ! 

Your affectionate wife, in life and death, 

M. M. A. 

LETTER TO HER HUSBAND, NO. II. 

My most dearly beloved ! 

When you are reading these lines, there vn\l be 
nothing left of me but a cold lump of clay. I 
bless God for having heard and answered my 
prayer for, you know, I have often expressed a 
desire, that my immortal spirit might take its flight 
before yours. Long may you live, for the sake of 
your dear family, to bring them up in the fear of 
the Lord ! Let me entreat you not to sorrow as 
one without hope ; for be assured that I am happy. 
I know that the enormous account of my sins is 
blotted out, by the precious blood of my crucified 
Redeemer ; who came into the world to call, not 
the righteous, but such sinners as I am, to repent- 
ance : and he has declared, that where he is, las 
people shall also be. So that I am only trans- 
planted from the church militant, into the church 
triumphant, to join with that general assembly, in 
praising the riches of redeeming grace and dying 
love. 

28 



326 MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 

I hope you have no doubt of the sincerity of iiiy 
affection to you. Heaven is my Vv'itness, that your 
temporal and spiritual welfare, has been the sub- 
ject of my incessant prayers ; and, I trust, they 
will be answered, when I am sleeping in the dust. 
If the disembodied spirits may be favoured with 
the knowledge of things done below, and still in- 
terested in the concernments of their dear relatives,. 
as I have some reason to thinli they will ; — how 
gladly shall I accept the pleaaing employ, of at- 
tending you as an invisible guardian angel, to warn 
you of dangers, and lend you aid in every season 
of distress ! My first care should be, to wipe 
the tears from your beloved cheek ; to sooth the 
wound my removal has made ; and to help you 
to triumph over your loss, with the fortitude 
and resignation becoming you, as a child of 
God. 

Time is short. In a few revolving years, ai 
most, your silver cord of hfe will be loosed, and 
your golden bowl broken. Then, when every 
earthly comfort shall fade, you will know the 
worth of redemption, by the sufferings and death 
of the Son of God, O, that when flesh and heaj't 
shall fail, you may find him your strength and por- 
tion ! If so, w'nat a joyful meeting shall we have, 
to part no more ; in his presence, where there is 
fulness of joy^ and where all tears shall be wiped 
away ! 



MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 327 

I thank you for all the kindness you have shown 
to me, a most unworthy creature. You have in- 
deed been a tender and affectionate husband to me. 
In you, I have found a bosom friend ; and my cares 
have been reposed in your beloved breast. My 
earthly happiness has been too great. I acqui- 
esce. He who gave me life has a right to take it. 
I go to permanent happiness, without alloy, where 
sorrow can find no entrance. 

And now, with all the solemn appendages of 
death in my view ; the gloomy grave, and an 
eternal world, into which I am about to enter ; I 
lift up my hands in supplication for you. May the 
blessings of the eternal Jehovah rest upon you ! 
May his presence be your light and your strength, 
to direct and support you, through all the changes 
of this mortal life ! And when you are bidding 
adieu to all in this world, may his almighty arm be 
your defence ; and may his heavenly messenge/s 
convey your departing spirit to the unsullied re- 
gions of eternal peace ! Adieu ! till we meet to 
part no more. The Lord bless you ! 

Your affectionate wife, 

M. M. A. 

In the last illness of this truly religious person, 
she was favoured with an entire trust in God, and 
with an earnest longing for that happy stoiie, 
w^hich she believed was prepared for her. — At one 



328 MARGARET M. ALTHENS. 

time, she says in her Diary : * " I hope I can adopt 

the language of Dr. Young : — 

" ' Or life, or death, is equal ; neither weighs 
All weight in this — O ! let me live to thee.' " 

At another time, she thus expresses herself: 
" I am still under the care of a physician ; but he 
gives me no hope. Indeed it would be both cruel, 
and in vain to flatter me now ; for my own weak- 
ness informs me, that I am going apace. I bless 
my God, I can now say, Thy will be done. I can 
give up my dear husband and children, with every 
earthly connexion, into his hands. He will take 
care of them. My husband's trial is great. I feel 
more for him than for myself. But heaven will 
make amends for all. O, how I pant and thirst 
for the happy hour, when my father will send his 
angels to convey my spirit to rest !" 

She obtained her long desired release from sm 
and sorrow, in the summer of the year 1789, and 
at the age of thirty-seven years, within a few days. 



I 



SECTION V. 
ZIMMERMAN. 

The following tribute to the memory of a be 
loved daughter, was written by Doctor Zimmer- 
man; and marks the piety of his own mind, as 
well as the influence of religion on the amiable 
subject of his sorrow : — 

'* May I be permitted here to give a short ac- 
count of a young person, whose memory I am 
extremely anxious to preserve ? The world was 
unacquainted wuth her excellence : she was known 
to those only whom she has left behind to bewail 
her loss. Her sole pleasures were those which a 
retired and virtuous life afi*ords. She was active, 
invariably mild, and always compassionate to the 
miseries of others. Diffident of her own powers, 
she relied with perfect confidence on the good- 
ness of God, and listened attentively to the pre- 
cepts of a fond parent. Taught by my ex- 
perience, submitting to my judgment, she en- 
tertained for me the most ardent afl'ection ; and 
convinced me, not by professions, but by actions, 
of her sincerity. Willingly would I have re- 
signed my life to have saved hers ; and I am 
satisfied that she would cheerfully have given up 
her own, to preserve mine. One of my greatest 
pleasures was, to please her ; and my endeavours 

28* 329 



330 ZIMMERMAN. 

for that purpose were most gratefully returned 
She gave many proofs of this kind and amiable 
temper : and I shall mention one, which, though 
small in itself, was peculiarly pleasing to me. 
She frequently presented me with a rose, which 
she knew was my favourite flower. I ever re- 
ceived it from her hand with delight, and pre- 
served it as a rich treasure. 

** From her earliest infancy, she had been the 
submissive victim of ill health. But though of a 
weak frame of body, and very deeply afflicted, 
she bore her suSerings with steady fortitude, and 
pious resignation to the dispensation of Heaven. 
Her appetite was almost gone when we left 
Swisserland ; a residence which, though pecu- 
liarly endeared to her, she quitted with her usual 
sweetness of temper, and without discovering the 
smallest regret. Soon after our arrival at Han- 
over, she fell into a deep decline, which, at 
length, terminated in a hemorrhage of the lungs, 
of a very micommon nature, that soon deprived 
me of the comfort of this beloved child. From 
the knowledge I had of her constitution, I appre- 
hended that the disorder would prove mortal. 
How frequently, during that fatal day, did my 
wounded, bleeding heart, bend me on my knees 
before God, to supplicate for her recovery ! But 
I concealed my feelings from her observation. 
Although sensible of her danger, she never dis-^ 



ZIMMERMAN. 331 

covered the least apprehension. Smiles played 
around her pallid cheeks, whenever I entered or 
quitted the room. Though worn down by the 
fatal distemper, a prey to the most corroding sor- 
rows, the sharpest and most afflicting pains, she 
made no complaint. She mildly answered all 
my questions, by some short sentence, without 
entering into any detail. Her decay and im- 
pending dissolution became obvious to the eye; 
but to the last moment of her life, her counte- 
nance preserved a serenity correspondent to the pu- 
rity of her mind, and the tender emotions of her 
heart. Thus I beheld my dear, my only daugh« 
ter, at the age of five-and-twenty, after a tedious 
suffering of nine long months, expire in my arms. 

" During the short time we passed at Hanover^ 
where she was much respected and beloved, she 
amused herself by composing several religious 
pieces, which were afterwards found among her 
papers ; and in which she implores death to afford 
her a speedy relief from her pains. About the 
same period, she wrote also many letters, which 
were always affecting, and frequently sublime. 
They were filled with expressions of the same 
desire, speedily to unite her soul with the Author 
of her being. The last words that my dear, my 
excellent child uttered, amidst the most painful 
agonies, were these : ' To-day I shall taste the 
joys of heaven!'" 



SECTION VI. 

JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 

James Hay Beattie, son of Dr. James Beattie, 
professor of moral philosophy and logic in the 
university of i^berdeen, was born in the year 
1768. He died early in life at the age of 
twenty-two ; but wisdom, not years, is the gray 
hair to man, and unspotted life is old age. 

This j^oung man possessed a fine genius, great 
vigour of imderstanding, and a very uncommon 
portion of learning and knowledge : but the recti- 
tude of heart, and genuine piety, by which he was 
so eminently distinguished, are the qualities which 
render him a proper subject for these memoirs. 

We shall select a few traits of the life and character 
of this excellent j^outh, as proofs of his uncommoo 
merit, and of the power of religion on his mind. 

His father never had occasion to reprove him 
above three or four times, during the whole of his 
life : bodily chastisement he never experienced at 
all. It would indeed have been most unreasonable 
to apply this mode of discipline to one, whose 
supreme concern it ever was, to know his dut)'*, 
and to do it. The first rules of morality which 
his father taught him, were, to speak truth, and 

332 



JAMES HAY BEATTfE. 333 

keep a secret; and it never appeared that in a 
single instance, he transgressed eillier. His whole 
behaviour, at school and college, was not only- 
irreproachable, but exemplary. In the year 1787, 
the king, upon the recommendation of the uni- 
versity of Marischal college, was pleased to ap- 
point him assistant professor of moral philosophy 
and logic. His age was then not quite nineteen ; 
but to the gentlemen of the university his character 
was so well known, that they most readily, as well 
as unanimously, concurred in the recommendation. 
His steadiness, good-nature, and self-command, 
secured his authority as a teacher : and by his 
presence of mind, and ready recollection, he 
satisfied his audience that, though young, he was 
abundantly qualified to instruct them. 

Piety and meekness were striking features in 
his character, habitual to him in infancy, and 
through life. The Christian religion and its 
evidences he had studied with indefatigable ap- 
plication ; and the consequence was such, as may 
always be expected in like cases, where the in- 
quirer has candour and sense : no person could 
love his religion more than he did, or believe in it 
with fuller assurance of faith. But in his behaviour 
there was no austerity or singularity. The effect 
of religion upon his mind was, to make him 
cheerful, considerate, benevolent, intrepid, hum- 
ble, and happy. He loved* the whole human 



334 JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 

race ; he bore a particular love to Christians ; and 
he wished all parties to exercise Christian charity 
towards each other. He wished to be, and to be con- 
sidered as a Christian ; a title Avhich he thought 
infinitely more honourable than any other. 

The purity and the delicacy of his mind were 
great ; and in one so young, were truly admi- 
rable, and worthy of imitation. He was aware of 
the danger of admitting indelicate or improper 
thoughts into his mind ; for he knew that associa- 
tions of ideas, disapproved both by reason as in- 
congruous, and by conscience as immoral, might 
in a moment be formed, in consequence of inad- 
vertence, even when there was no settled pro- 
pensity to evil. His attention was continually 
awake to learn, although from the slightest hint, 
or most trivial circumstance, what might be useful, 
in purifying his mind, regulating his conduct, or 
improving his understanding. 

He w^as almost constantly occupied in dis- 
charging the duties of his office, in performing 
acts of kindness, or in planning works of literature 
for the benefit of mankind ; and there is every 
reason to believe, that if his life had been 
lengthened, he would have be^-n eminently useful 
in the world. But it pleased Divine Providence 
to permit this promising you;h w be cut down by 
disease, in the morning of life. Whef^ hiz d:5C5vlcr 



JAMES HAY BEATTIE. ^S§ 

had made great progress, and he saw death ap- 
proaching, he met it with his usual calmness and 
resignation. One evening, while he was expecting 
the physician, who had been sent for in the belief 
that he was just going to expire, he sweetly said : 
" How pleasant a medicine is Christianity !" 

He sometimes endeavoured to reconcile his 
father's mind to the thought of parting with him ; 
but, for fear of giving him pain, spoke seldom and 
sparingly on that subject. " One day," says his 
father, " when I was sitting by him, he began to 
speak in very affectionate terms, as he often had 
done, of w^hat he called my goodness to him. 
I begged him to drop that subject ; and was pro- 
ceeding to tell him, that I had never done any 
'hing for him but what duty required, and inch- 
nation prompted ; and that, for the little I had 
done, his filial piety and other virtues, were to 
me more than a sufficient recompense, — when he 
interrupted me, (which he was not apt to do,) 
and, starting up, with inexpressible fervour and 
solemnity, implored the blessing of God upon me. 
His look at that moment, though I &hall never 
forget it, I can describe in no other way than by 
saying, that it seemed to have in it something 
more than human, and what I may not very im- 
properly perhaps call angehc. Seeing me agita- 
ted, he expressed concern for what he had done ; 
and said that whatever might be in his mind, he 



336 JAMES HAY BEATTIE. 

would not any more put my feelings to so severe 
a trial. Sometimes, however, warm sentiments of 
gratitude would break from him : and those were 
the only occasions on which, during the w^hole 
course of his illness, he was observed to shed tears, 
till the day before his death : when he desired to 
see his brother, gave him his ble&sing, w^ept ovev^ 
him, and bid him farewell." 

The preceding traits of the life and virtues of this 
amiable and accomplished youth, are taken from an 
account of his life and character, written and pub 
lished by his very worthy father, Dr, James Beattie; 
to w^hich publication the compiler refers the reader 
for further pe^rticulars. He will find it a well-written, 
instructive, and most interesting detail of the sen- 
timents and conduct of this excellent young man. 

We cannot better close this memoir, than by 
transcribing the pious and pathetic lines of his 
father, at the conclusion of that work : " I hava 
lost the pleasantest, and, for the last four or five 
j^ears of his short life, one of the most instructive 
companions, that ever man w^as delighted with. 
But, ' the Lord gave ; the Lord hath taken away • 
blessed be the name of the Lord.' — I adore the 
Author of all Good, w^io gave him grace to lead 
such a life, and die such a death, as makes it im- 
possible for a Christian to doubt of his having en- 
tered upon the inheritance of a happv immortality/* 



SECTION VII. 

ELIZABETH SMITH. 

This amiable and excellent person was born at 
Burnhall in the county of Durham, in the year 
1776, at which place her parents then resided in 
affluent circumstances, though afterwards they ex- 
perienced a reverse of fortune. At a very early 
age, she discovered that love of reading, and that 
close application to whatever she engaged in, which 
marked her character through life. She was ac- 
customed, when only three years old, to leave an 
elder brother and younger sister to play and amuse 
themselves, whilst she eagerly seized on such books 
as a nursery library commonly affords, and made 
herself mistress of their contents. At four years 
of age, she read extremely well ; and, from the 
judicious account which her mother gives of her, 
it appears, that whatever she did was well done, 
and with an apparent consideration far be)''ond her 
years, 

As she grew up, she was remarkable for a thirst 
of knowledge, for regularity, and observation. 
Her person and manners were highly pleasing, and 
her disposition was mild and benevolent. She had 
a pensive softness of countenance, that indicated 
deep reflection : but her extreme timidity con-- 
29 337 



333 ELIZABETH SMITH. 

cealed, for a time, the \ery extraordinarj^ talents 
which she possessed. She was instnicted, and 
made great progress, in the accomphshments, which 
are usually taught to females in the polished circles 
of life. But she was eminently distinguished for a 
love of learning, a facility in acquiring languages, 
and a desire to improve her mind. With scarcely 
any assistance, she taught herself ihe French, 
Italian, Spanish, German, Latin, Greek, and 
Hebrew languages : and she had no inconsiderable 
knowledge of Arabic and Persic. She was well 
acquainted with geometry, algebra, and other 
branches of the mathematics. 

**\Vith all tliese acquirements," says her excel- 
lent biographer, *^ she was perfectly feminine in her 
disposition ; elegant, modest, gentle, and affec- 
tionate : nothing was neglected which a woman 
ought to know ; no duty was omitted, which her 
situation in life required her to perform. But 
the part of her character, on which," continues her 
biographer, " I dwell with the greatest satisfaction, 
is that exalted piety, which seemed always to raise 
her above this world ; and taught her, at sixteen 
years of age, to resign its riches and its pleasures, 
almost without regret, and to support with dignity 
a very unexpected change of situation. — For some 
years before her death, the Holy Scripture was 
her principal study ; and she translated from the 
Hebrew the whole book of Job, &:c., &c. The 



ELIZABETH SMITH. 339 

benefit wliicli slic liersclf derived from these studies, 
must be evident to those who witnessed the pa- 
tience and resignation with which she supported a 
long and painful illness, the sweet altfMitioii whieli 
she always showed to the feelings of lier parents 
and friends, and the heavenly composure with 
which she hooked forward to the awful change, 
which has now removed lier to a world Svliere,' 
as one of her friends oh.serves, * her gentle, pure, 
and eidightened spirit, will find itself more at 
home, than in this land of shadows.' " 

This jMous and admirable young person, was 
not destined by Divine Providence to continue 
long on this stage of probation and conflict. In 
the summer of 1305, she caught a cold, which, 
though at first it seemed not to be of nnich conse- 
quence, gradually impaired her constitution ; so 
that, in little more than a year from the com- 
mencement of the disorder, her valuable life was 
terminated. She finished her course in the thir- 
tieth year of her age. 

After her death, tliere was foiuid amongst her 
manuscripts, a number of relhu^tions on a variety 
of important subjects, moral and religious. Wo 
shall select a few of these, and present them to the 
reader, as interesting specimens of the goodness 
both of her head and her heart : — 



340 ELIZABETH SMITH. 

"Pleasure is a rose near which there ever 
grows the thorn of evil. It is wisdom's work so 
carefully to cull the rose, as to avoid the thorn, 
and let its rich perfume exhale to heaven in grate- 
ful adoration of Him_ who gave the rose to blow." 

^* The Christian life may be compared to a 
magnificent column, whose summit always points 
to heaven. The innocent and therefore real plea 
sures of this world, are the ornaments on the 
pedestal ; very beautiful and highly to be enjoyed, 
when the eye is near; but which should not too 
long, or too frequently detain us from that just 
distance, where we can contemplate the whole 
column, and where the ornaments on its base dis- 
appear." 

*' How light are all the troubles of this world, 
to those who value every thing it contains, ac- 
cording to its real worth ! They may appear in 
sensible, to those who reckon by a different 
standard ; but the)?- can bear even this imputation, 
for they know the value of human applause. How 
happy should we be, if we could always /eeZ, as we 
sometimes think ! 

"No event which I thought unfortunate has 
ever happened to me, but I have been convinced, 
at some time or other, that it was not a misfortune, 
but a blessing, I can never then in reason com* 



ELIZABETH SMITH. 341 

plain of any thing that liappens, because I am 
persuaded it is permitted for some good purpose. 

" An hour well spent condemns a life. When 
we reflect on the sum of improvement and dehght 
gained in that single hour, how do the multitude 
of hours already past, rise up and say, what good 
has marked us ? Wouldst thou know the true 
worth of time, employ one houry 

The following lines, contained in a little pocket- 
book, and written by her in the year 1798, when 
she had attained the age of twenty-one years, are 
peculiarly interesting. They indicate the deep 
sense which she had of the value and importance 
of religion : — 



■'&'■ 



"Being now arrived at what is called years of 
discretion, and looking back on my past life with 
shame and confusion, when I recollect the many 
advantages I have had, and the bad use I have 
made of them, the hours I have squandered, and 
the opportunities of improvement I have neg- 
lected; — when I imagine what, with those ad- 
vantages, I ought to be, and find myself what I 
am : — I am resolved to endeavour to be more care- 
ful, for the future, if the future be granted me ; 
to try to make amends for past negligence, by em- 
ploying every moment I can command, to some 

good purpose; to endeavour to acquire all the 

29* 



342 ELIZABETH SMITH. 

little knowledge that human nature is capable of 
on earth ; but to let the word of God be my chief 
study, and all others subservient to it ; to model 
m37'self as far as I am able, according to the Gospel 
of Christ ; to be content while my trial lasts, and 
when it is finished, to rejoice, trusting in the merits 
of my Redeemer. I have written these resolutions, 
to stand as a witness against me, in case I should 
be inclined to forget them, and to return to my 
former indolence and thoughtlessness, because I 
have found the inutility of mental determinations. 
May God grant me strength to keep them !" 

These pious and holy resolutions, were, we pre- 
sume, succeeded by great watchfulness against 
temptations, and by devout and earnest endeavours to 
secure the momentous and happy objects which she 
had in view. — Her trials and conflicts are all over ; 
and she is gone to receive, through Divine Grace, 
the reward of her virtues. But her example still 
remains ; and to those by whom it is duly contem- 
plated, it may prove a powerful incentive, to imi- 
tate her goodness, and to aspire after that future 
blessedness, which animated her hopes and ex- 
ertions. 



ELIZABETH CARTEK. 

Elizabeth Carter, a person highly o . timable 
for her learning, talents, and virtues, was born at 
Deal, in the year 1717. Her father. Dr. Nicholas 
Carter, a clergyman in Kent, was a man of great 
learning, and of exemplary character. He gave 
all his children, daughters as well as sons, a learn- 
ed education. But the infancy and early youth of 
Elizabeth afforded no promise of the attainments 
which she afterwards acquired. Yet even then, it 
was her most eager desire to be a scholar, though 
nature seemed to forbid it. She gained the rudi- 
ments of knowledge with great labour and 
difficulty ; and her perseverance was put to a 
most severe trial. This ardent thirst after know- 
ledge, vvas, however, at length crowned with 
complete success ; and her acquirements became, 
even very early in life, such as are rarely met 
with. Her proficiency in languages was very 
extraordinary, for her age and sex. Besides Latin, 
Greek, and Hebrew, she became possessed of the 
French, Italian, Spanish, and German tongues ; 
the last three of which she attained without a 
master. 

343 



344 ELIZABETH CARTER. 

Poetry was one of her early tastes ; and in 1738, 

she pubhshed a small collection of Poems, Avritten 
before she was twenty j^ears of age. The sciences 
were not neglected by her. She paid great atten- 
tion to astronomy ; which she thought a noble 
study, and in which she made a very considerable 
progress. She gained such a knowledge of histor}', 
both ancient and modern, as is rarely acquired ; 
and her taste for that engaging, as well as useful 
branch of science, she never lost. Yet, amidst 
her various applications and employments, she 
found time to work a great deal with her 
needle, not only for herself, but also for the family. 
She was not inattentive to domestic economy, 
and the occupations that belong to the female 
character. 

"But among her studies, there was one which 
she never neglected ; one which was alwa3's dear to 
her, from her earliest infancy to the latest period 
of her life, and in which she made a continual 
improvement. This was that of Religion, which 
was her constant care, and greatest delight. Her 
acquaintance with the Bible, some part of which 
she never failed to read every day, was as complete, 
as her belief in it was sincere. And no person 
ever endeavoured more, and few with greater 
success, to regulate the whole of their conduct by 
that unerring guide. — Her piety was indeed the 
very piety of the Gospel, sho\\Ti not by enthu- 



ELIZABETH CARTER. 345 

siasm, or depreciating that of others, but by a 
calm, rational, and constant devotion, and the 
most unwearied attention to acquire the temper, 
and practice the duties of a Christian life. 
She never thanked God, like the proud Pharisee, 
that she was not like others : but rather, like the 
Publican, besought him to be merciful to her a 
sinner. 

" She admired, and warmly felt, the beauties 
of works of genius and fancy ; but in her estima 
tion, the one thing needful, duty to God and 
man, in its highest sense, superseded all the 
rest. Hence the works of art, and the beauties of 
nature, equally turned her thoughts in gratitude 
to Him, who has granted us faculties and senses 
capable of giving and receiving so much innocent 
pleasure." 

This excellent woman had a heart finely adapted 
to friendship ; and she possessed many friends of 
distinguished character, who proved the instru- 
ments of much enjoym^ent to her. In particular, 
she formed an intimate connexion with the accom- 
plished Catherine Talbot, who w^as niece to the 
lord chancellor Talbot, and who possessed con- 
siderable genius, and a most amiable disposition. 
This was an important event in the life of Elizabeth 
Carter. The intimacy of their fri^dship, the 
interesting nature of their correspondence, and the 



346 ELIZABETH CARTER* 

exalted piety of both, rendered this connexion the 
principal ingredient of their mutual happiness. Il 
procured also the friendship of Dr. Seeker, arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, with whom her beloved 
Catherine resided. Under these favourable circum- 
stances, she extended her knowledge of the world, 
cherished her profound learning, and exercised her 
pious views and sentiments. It was by the desire 
of this valued female friend, enforced by the bishop 
of Oxford that she undertook the work, by which 
her literary reputation has been most known abroad, 
and will be long remembered by scholars at home, 
her translation of Epictetus. 

She was, for many years, happy in her union 
and intercourse with a w^oman so very dear to her : 
and when the time of their separation came, it was, 
as may be supposed, an event deeply affecting to 
her susceptible mind. From a letter w^hich she 
wrote, on this melancholy occasion, we extract the 
following passages : *' Never surely was there a 
more perfect pattern of evangelical goodness, deco- 
rated by all the ornaments of a highly improved 
understanding ; and recommended by a sweetness 
of temper, and an elegance and politeness of 
manners of a peculiar and more engaging kind, 
than in any other character I ever knew. — Little, 
alas! infinitely too little have I yet profited by the 
blessing of such an example. God grant that her 
uiemor\% which I hope will ever survive in my 



ELIZABETH CARTER. 347 

heart, may prodace a happier effect. Adieu, my 
dear friend. God bless you ; and conduct us both 
to that happy assembly, where the spirits of the 
just &hall dread no future separation ! And may 
we both remember that awful truth, that we can 
hope to die the death of the righteous only by 
resembling their lives." 

The subject of this memoir survived her lament- 
ed friend many years : and it appears that her lamp 
continued to burn brightly, till there was no fuel 
left to supply it. 

" About nine years before her death, she re- 
ttirned from London at her usual time, much dis- 
ordered by a complaint which was supposed to be 
the Saint Anthony's Fire. In the course of the 
summer she was reduced by it to the lowest ex- 
tremity ; and was given over by her medical atten- 
dants, and by all her friends. She thought herself 
going, and was prepared for the important change. 
Though her strength failed, her spirits never 
flagged, and she spoke of her approaching depart- 
ure, with the most pious hope and resignation, 
and even with cheerfulness. Her life, she said, 
had been a prosperous and happy one, and if it 
seemed fit to God she would be glad to live 
longer ; if it was his pleasure to take her, she 
was ready and willing to depart; and trusted 
to his mercies, through Christ, for the forgive- 



348 ELIZABETH CARTER. 

ness of her sins. It pleased God, however, that 
she should return from the very verge of the 
grave ; but her recovery v^as slow, and incomplete 
at best ; and she never recovered her former 
strength." 

At length, the period approached, when this 
distinguished person was to take her final leave of 
all transitory objects. Her strength gradually 
wasted ; and to most of her friends it was evident, 
that she was journeying slowly, but surely, towards 
the house appointed for all living. Yet " her 
piety was as fervent, her temper as mild, and her 
wishes for those she loved as warm, as in the time 
of her strong health." She retained her senses 
till vvdthin a few hours of her decease : which took 
place in the winter of the year 1806, and in the 
89th year of her age. 

A few extracts from the writings of this truly 
Valuable woman, will further evince the excellence 
of her religious principles ; the piety and devotion 
of her mind : and her entire resignation to the will 
of her heavenly Father. 

THOUGHTS ON THE PRESENT STATE OP 
AFFAIRS, 1752. 

The last winter has been a calamitous one to 
several nations, and alarming to our own ; and 



I 



ELIZABETH CARTER. 



349 



the summer prospect is clouded with impending 
dangers. What method can I take to avoid the 
threatened evil, or to quiet my fears ? Can 
I fly into some distant country, and endeavour 
to secure myself there? My connexions and 
attachments render this an impracticable scheme. 
Shall I depend for protection on the assist- 
ance of my friends ? They are helpless and 
defenceless as myself. Is there then no refuge 
left ? Yes ; a reliance on Him, in w^hose hand 
are the issues of life and death, and the disposal of 
all events. 



And have I then been careful to secure an mterest 
in this Almighty Protector, this unfailing friend ^ 
Dare I, with humble hope and confidence, look 
up for aid and support to that God, who is of 
purer eyes than to behold iniquity ? This is an 
awful and important inquiry, and merits my most 
serious attention. Let me examine my own heart. 
Of atrocious crimes perhaps it fully acquits me : 
but to these have I any temptation ? In avoiding 
them, how little have I to boast ! But are there 
not faults of a less observable nature, and often 
much too slightly overlooked, for which in my 
situation, I am strictly accountable ? By the gra- 
cious dispensation of Providence, I am a Christian : 
have I duly considered what this sacred character 
imports ? what a strictness of behaviour my pro- 
fession requires ? Is religion, and a perpetual 
30 



350 ELIZABETH CARTER. 

view to the solemn account which I must 
one day render, the governing principle of my 
life ? Does it, as far as mortal frailty will permit, 
influence my whole conduct, my actions, my dis- 
courses, and accompany me even in my diversions 
and amusements ? 

In this season of public danger, let me consider 
in what particulars I am faulty ; and sincerely en- 
deavour, by the divine assistance, to correct what I 
discover to be wrong. 

Fear, when it terminates in itself, is a painful 
and contemptible passion : but, properly applied, 
may be sanctified to a noble use. That use our 
blessed Saviour has pointed out to me. If the fear 
of God influences me to correct whatever would 
tend to deprive me of his favour and protection, 
what else shall I have to fear ? Whatever be the 
event of the present alarming dangers, to me, if I 
do not forfeit my hope in the Divine Goodness, it 
will certainly be happy. Though the earth trembles 
beneath my feet, my soul will be immoveably fixed 
on the Rock of Ages ; and when the sword hangs 
over my head, I shall acquaint mi/self with God, 
and be at peace. 



ELIZABETH CARTER. 351 

EXTRACT FROM A LETTER TO . 

To consider the Gospel merely as a subject of 
speculation, which we are at liberty to examine, or 
let alone, just as our other avocations will allow, is 
not having such a sense of its awful importance, as 
gives room to expect any satisfaction from the in- 
quiry. To examine it more diligently, and more 
in earnest, yet entirely with a confidence in our 
own understanding, is not having a proper sense 
of human weakness. Religion is a most solemn 
transaction between God and the soul, founded on 
every relation in which we stand to him ; and it is 
only by keeping up a perpetual intercourse with 
him, and by an endeavour to form not only 
our outward behaviour, but the whole internal 
frame of our mind, with a reference to his appro- 
bation, that we can become sufficiently divested of 
all wrong tendencies, to be duly qualified to judge 
of the truth of any revelation proposed in his name. 

Those who sincerely wish to make his will the 
first object of their choice, who submit their under- 
standing to his direction, and implore and depend 
on his assistance to guard them from error, his 
goodness will never suff*er to be fatally misled : 
and they will enter on their inquiry, with a full 
secmrity of obtaining every degree of conviction 
which is necessary to their virtue and their peace. 
So true I believe is the position that conviction 



352 ELIZABETH CARTER. 

depends on the heart, that I think you will not, in 
the whole circle of your observation, find a single 
instance of a person whose heart was disposed in 
the manner which I have described, w^ho ever 
continued an unbeliever. 

ON THE OCCASION OF MAKING HER WILL. 

In the solemn act of making one's last will, some- 
thing surely ought to be added to the mere forms 
of law. Upon this occasion, which is a kind of 
taking leave of the world, I acknowledge, wuth 
gratitude and thanl^sgiving, how much I owe to 
the Divine Goodness, for a life distinguished by in- 
numerable and unmerited blessings. 

Next to God, the supreme and original author 
of all happiness, I desire to express my thank- 
fulness to those whom he has made the instruments 
of conveying his benefits to me. Most particularly 
I am indebted to my father, for his kindness and 
indulgence to me, in every instance, and especially 
in the uncommon care and pains he has taken in 
my education ; which has been the source of such 
a variety of reasonable pleasures, as well as of very 
great advantages in my conversation with the 
world. I likewise very heartily thank my mother,* 
my brothers and sisters, for all the instance!^ of 

♦ Her mother-in-law, who was then living. 



ELIZABETH CARTER. 353 

kindness and affection, by which they have con- 
tributed to the comfort of my hfe. If, in this 
disposition of my affairs, I appear to have made 
any distinction, I entreat them to beheve, that 
not any difference in my own good-will to them, 
but a regard to their different circumstances, has 
been the real motive of it. 

Besides my own family, there are very many 
others, to whom I have been obliged, for very 
considerable advantages, in the assistance and 
pleasures of friendship. Of these I retain a most 
affectionate and grateful memory ; and desire all 
my intimate friends to consider themselves as 
included in my sincere acknowledgments. 

And now, O gracious God, whether it be thy 
will to remove me speedily from the world, or 
to allot me a longer time in it, on Thee alone I 
depend for happiness both here and hereafter. 
I acknowledge my own unworthiness, and that 
all my claim to thy favour is founded on thy infi* 
nite goodness in the merciful dispensation of the 
Gospel. I implore the pardon of all my sins, 
and humbly hope for those pleasures whish are 
at thy right-hand for evermore, in and through 
Him by whom all thy blessings are conveyed, 
my blessed Lord, Redeemer, and only Saviour, 
Jesus Christ. Elizabeth Carter. 

February 9, 1759. 

30* 



354 ELIZABETH CARTER. 



A MORNING r R A Y E R. 

O God, my merciful Father, I humbly thank 
Thee for preserving me in safety the past night, 
for refreshing me with quiet sleep, and raising 
me in health and peace, to the enjoyment of a 
world which Thou hast made so beautiful, and 
in which Thou hast allotted me such innumerable 
mercies. I bless Thee for all the comforts of my 
life ; for health and plenty, good parents, kind 
relations, and kind friends ; I beg of Thee to 
bless and reward them, and to make me dutiful 
and grateful to them. 

Under a sense of my own weakness, I beg the 
assistance of thy Holy Spirit, to enable me to 
resist the dangerous temptations, and bad exam- 
ples of the world, the wrong dispositions of my 
own heart and temper, and the snares of Satan. 
I humbly beseech Thee to take my unexperienced 
youth under thy protection. Keep me, O Lord, 
from presumption and vanity : from idle dissipa- 
tion, and extravagant expenses. Impress on 
my soul a constant regard to that awful account 
of all my thoughts, words, and actions, which I 
must give to Thee, at the dreadful day of judg- 
ment. Grant me a firm persuasion, that all my 
peace of mind here, and my happiness hereafter, 
must depend on my improvement in piety and 



I 



ELIZABETH CARTER. 355 

in the duties of a Christian Hfe. Teach me to 
rely with perfect dependance upon Thee, who 
alone knowest what is truly good for me ; and 
dispose me to cheerful contentment, in whatever 
condition Thou seest fit to place me. 

I beseech Thee to guard me this day from 
all danger, particularly from the greatest of all 
evils, the doing any thing displeasing to Thee. 
I humbly offer up all my petitions in the name, 
and through the intercession, of my blessed 
Saviour, who has taught me, when I pray, to 
say, Our Father, &c. 



We shall close the memoir of this pious 
and distinguished female, with an honourable 
testimony to her talents and character, as well 
as to those of Elizabeth Smith, selected from 
one of the publications of the celebrated Hannah 
More : — 

" Against learning, against talents of any 
kind, nothing can steady the head, unless you 
fortify the heart with real Christianity. In 
raising the moral edifice, we must sink deep in 
proportion as we build high. We must widen 
the foundation, if we extend the superstructure. 
Religion alone can counteract the aspirings of 



356 ELIZABETH CARTER. 

genius, can regulate the pride of talents. And 
yet such women as are disposed to be vain of their 
comparatively petty attainments, look up v^ith 
admiration to those contemporary shining exam- 
ples, the venerable EUzabeth Carter, and the bloom- 
ing Elizabeth Smith. I knew them both ; and 
to know, was to revere them. In them let our 
young ladies contemplate profound and various 
learning, chastised by true Christian humility. 
In them, let them venerate acquirements, w^hich 
would have been distinguished in a university, 
meekly softened, and beautifully shaded, by 
the gentle isxertion of every domestic virtue ; 
the unaffected exercise of every feminine em- 
ployment/' 



SECTION IX. 
SIR WILLIAM JONES. 

Sir William Jones, an eminent lawyer, and 
most accomplished scholar, was born in London, 
in the year 1746. He lost his father when he 
was only three years of age ; and the care of his 
education devolved on his mother, a woman of 
uncommon mental endowments. She was very 
solicitous to kindle in his young mind a love for 
reading; which she effected, by constantly re- 
plying to those questions that a native ardour for 
instruction incessantly prompted, " Read, and 
you will know." This he did to a great extent, 
at a very early period. 

lie was not one of those happy geniuses, (if 
such there are,) who can make brilHant acqui- 
sitions without pains. It was, on the contrary, 
by the most sedulous industry, and the renun-- 
elation of the usual diversions of a school-boy, 
joined with the natural gift of a very retentive 
memory, that lie was enabled to lay in those 
ample stores of knowledge, by wliich he became so 
highly distinguislied. 



358 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 

In 1764, he was entered of University college 
Oxford; and his excellent mother, who devoted 
her time almost entirely to him, fixed her resi- 
dence in the same city. This affectionate and 
judicious attention, must have preserved him 
from many dangers, and was doubtless pro- 
ductive of gi'eat comfort and advantage to him. 
He ever regarded her with true filial affection 
and gratitude ; and the desire of relieving her 
from the burden of his education, rendered a 
fellowship in the college the great object of his 
wishes. This soon fell into his possession, and 
placed him according to his own idea, in a state 
of independence. He had the private tuition of 
young Lord Althorpe, now Earl Spencer; with 
whom he made a tour to the continent, by which 
he was introduced into the most respectable com- 
pany, and derived not only amusement, but much 
instruction. 

As he was desirous of obtaining a station in 
society adequate to his endowments, and by 
which he might be, in no ordinary degree, useful 
to his fellow-creatures, he chose the profession of 
law, for the study of which he had acquired a 
particular predilection. He entered at the Temple 
in the year 1770; and four years afterwards he 
was called to the Bar. He did not, however, 
sacrifice to professional studies all those hterary 
pursuits, which had so delightfully occupied him. 



SIR WILLIAM JONES. 359 

He published several volumes of poems, partly 
translations from the poets of Asia, and a number 
of critical dissertations ; which attracted the notice 
and admiration of persons, both at home and 
abroad, who were competent judges of the sub 
jects. 

The post of one of the judges in the English 
territories of India, had long been a particular 
object of his wishes, principally on account of 
the opportunity it would afford him of gratifying 
his ardent desire for oriental researches. And in 
1783, he received the appointment of a judge of 
the supreme court of judicature at Fort William, in 
Bengal ; and at the same time the honour of knight- 
hood was conferred upon him. About this period, 
he married a most amiable woman, whose cultiva- 
ted mind and excellent heart, were finely adapted 
to his views and happiness. The field of action 
and inquiry which opened to him in India, was 
immense. He planned the institution of a society 
in Calcutta, similar to the Royal Society of 
London ; and the labours and discoveries of this 
institution have been very interesting and emi- 
nently useful. For his extensive researches into 
the history, laws, literature, and religion of India, 
the world is greatly indebted to him ; and from 
them the cause of Christianity has derived no 
inconsiderable aid. 



860 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 

This learned and excellent man was, in the 
prime of his days, and when apparently in good 
health, seized with a disorder which, in about 
a week, put a period to his valuable Hfe. — His 
biographer. Lord Teignmouth, observes, that " the 
progress of the complaint was uncommonly rapid, 
and terminated fatally on the 27th of April, 1794. 
On the morning of that day, his attendants, alarmed 
at the evident symptoms of approaching dissolution, 
came precipitately to call the friend who has now 
the melancholy task of recording the mournful 
event : not a moment was lost in repairing to his 
house. He was lying on his bed in a posture of 
meditation ; and the only symptom of remaining 
life, was a small degree of motion in the heart, 
which after a few seconds ceased, and he expired 
without a pang or groan. His bodily suffering, 
from the complacence of his features and the ease 
of his attitude, could not have been severe ; and 
his mind must have derived consolation from those 
sources, where he had been in the habit of seeking 
it, and where alone, in our last moments, it can 
ever be found." 

When Sir William Jones was visited with his 
last illness, he was in the 48th year of his age, 
possessing the full vigour of his mental powers, 
and occupied with vast projects of literature, which 
might have employed an active life protracted to 



SIR WILLIAM JONES. 361 

the utmost limits allotted to the human race. — 
Few men have died more respected, or more 
regretted, and few have passed a more useful and 
irreproachable life. The vast extent of his 
erudition has been displayed in his literary- 
labours ; to which it may be added, that scarcely 
any subject of human research escaped his notice. 
Asa linguist, he has rarely, if ever, been equalled ; 
for his list of languages comprehends, "eight 
studied critically; eight studied less perfectly, 
but all intelligible with a dictionary ; and twelve 
studied least perfectly, but all attainable." His 
industry in acquiring elementary knowledge was 
not, however, productive of dryness : taste and 
elegance marked all his exertions. As a poet, he 
would probably have risen to the first class, had 
his ardour for transplanting foreign beauties, 
allowed him leisure for the exercise of his own 
invention. His private virtues were not inferior 
to his intellectual endowments. As a son, a 
husband, a friend, and a citizen, he fulfilled every 
duty in an exemplary manner. His integrity in 
the exercises of his judicial office was above all 
suspicion. He was totally free from pedantry, as 
well as from that arrogance and self-sufficiency 
which sometimes accompany and disgrace the 
greatest abilities. His presence was the delight of 
every society which his conversation exhilarated 
and improved ; and his whole conduct bespoke a 
manlj'" and independent spirit. A rational and ex- 

31 



362 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 

alted piety crowned the whole of his great attain- 
ments, and excellent qualities. 

" The mind of Sir William Jones," says his 
pious and elegant biographer, " was never tainted 
with infidelity. But there was a period, before his 
judgment was matured, and before he had studied 
the Scriptures with close attention, when his belief 
in the truth of Revelation was tinged with doubts. 
But these were the transient clouds, which, for a 
while obscure the dawn, and disperse with the rising 
sun. His heart and his judgment told him, that 
religion is a subject of supreme importance, and the 
evidence of its truth worthy of his most serious in 
vestigation. He sat down to the inquiry without 
prejudice, and rose from it with a conviction, which 
the studies of his future life invigorated and con- 
firmed. The completion of the prophecies relating 
to our Saviour, had impressed upon his youthful 
mind, this invaluable truth, that the language of 
Isaiah, and other prophets, was inspired ; and in 
this belief, to which fresh proofs were progressively 
added, he closed his life. He has, I trust, re- 
ceived, through the merits of his Redeemer, the 
reward of his faith. 

" In matters of eternal concern, the authority 
of the highest human opinions has no claim to be 
admitted, as a ground of belief; but it may, with 
the strictest propriety, be opposed to that of men 



SIR WILLIA.M JONES. 363 

of inferior learning and penetration; and whilst 
the pious derive satisfaction from the perusal of 
sentiments according with their own, those who 
doubt or disbelieve, should be induced to weigh, 
with candom* and impartiality, arguments which 
have produced conviction in the minds of the 
best, the wisest, and the most learned of man- 
kind. 

"Among such as have professed a steady 
belief in the doctrine of Christianity, where shall 
greater names be found, than those of Bacon and 
Newton? Of the former, and of Locke, it may 
be observed, that they were both innovators in 
science : disdaining to follow^ the sages of antiquity 
through the beaten paths of error, they broke 
through prejudices which had long obstructed 
the progress of sound knowledge, and they laid 
the foundation of science on solid ground ; whilst 
the genius of Newton led him to discoveries of 
an amazing extent. These men, to their great 
praise, and we may hope to their eternal hap- 
piness, devoted much of their time to the study 
of the Scriptures. If the evidence of Revelation 
had been weak, who were better qualified to ex- 
pose its unsoundness ? Why were minds which 
boldly destroyed the prejudices in science, blind to 
jliose in religion ? They read, examined, weighed, 
and believed ; and the same vigorous intellect, 
that dispersed the mists which concealed the 



364 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 

temple of human knowledge, was itself illumi- 
nated with the radiant truths of Divine Revela- 
tion. Such authorities, and let me now subjoin 
to them the name of Sir William Jones, are de 
servedly entitled to great estimation. 

" In some of his papers, containing a delinea- 
tion of his daily occupations, I find a portion of 
his time allotted to the perusal of the Scriptures. 
And I am authorized to add, not only from what 
appears in his printed works and private me- 
moranda, but from particular and satisfactory 
testimony, that the writings of our best divines en- 
gaged a large share of his attention ; and that pri- 
vate devotion was not neglected by him. The 
following lines, which afford a proof both of his 
taste and piety, were written by him in the 
year 1786, after a perusal of the eighth sermon of 
Barrow : — 

" ^ As meadows parch'd, brown groves, and wither- 
ing flow'rs, 
Imbibe the sparkHng dew and genial show'rs ; 
As chill dark air inhales the morning beam ; 
As thirsty hearts enjoy the gelid stream; 
Thus to man's grateful soul from heav'n descend, 
The mercies of his Father, Lord, and Friend.'" 

Sir William Jones, in his Bible, wrote the fol- 
lowing note ; which coming from a man of his pro- 



SIR William jones. 365 

found erudition, and perfect knowledge of the 
Oriental languages, customs, and manners, must 
be considered as a powerful testimony, not only to 
the sublimity, but to the Divine Inspiration, of the 
Sacred 'Scriptures : — 

" I have, " says he, " carefully and regularly 
perused these Holy Scriptures ; and am of opinion, 
that the volume, independently of its Divine origin, 
contains more sublimity, purer morality, more im- 
portant history, and finer strains of eloquence, than 
can be collected from all other books, in whatever 
language they may have been written " 

As religion was the subject of his meditations in 
health, it was more forcibly impressed upon his 
mind during illness. He knew the duty of resig- 
nation to the will of his Maker, and of dependance 
on the merits of a Redeemer. These sentiments 
are expressed in a short prayer, which he composed 
during his indisposition in 1784; and which is in 
the following words : — 

" O ihou Bestower of all good ! if it please thee 
to continue my easy tasks in this life, grant me 
strength to perform them as a faithful servant : 
but if thy wisdom hath willed to end them by this 
thy visitation, admit me, not weighing my un- 
worthiness, but through thy mercy declared in 
Christ, into thy heavenly mansions, that I may con- 

31* 



366 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 

tinually advance in happiness, by advancing in txue 
knowledge and awful love of thee. Thy will be 
done !" 

Another short prayer, composed by him, on 
waking one morning at sea during the voyage to 
India, is worthy of insertion : — 

" Graciously accept our thanks, thou Giver of 
all good, for having preserved us another night, 
and bestowed on us another day. O, grant that 
on this day, we may meditate on thy law with joy- 
ful veneration ; and keep it in all our actions, with 
firm obedience." 

Amongst the papers written by this truly ex- 
cellent man, was a prayer, composed by him on 
the first day of the year 1782, about twelve years 
before his death. It is evidently the effusion of a 
pious mind, deeply impressed with an awful sense 
of the infinite wisdom, power, and benevolence of 
his Creator ; and of the ignorance, weakness, and 
depravity of human nature. It contains sublime 
views of the Divine attributes ; and the most 
humble dependance on God, for light and abili- 
ty to serve him acceptably. The following passa- 
ges are selected from this solemn and devout com- 
position : — 

"Eternal and incomprehensible Mind, who, by 



SIR WILLIAM JONES. 367 

thy boundless power, before time began, createdst 
innumerable worlds for thy glory, and innumerable 
orders of beings for their happiness, which thy 
infinite goodness prompted thee to desire, and 
thy infinite wisdom enabled thee to know ! we, 
thy creatures, vanish into nothing before thy 
supreme Majesty. To thy power we humbly 
submit ; of thy goodness we devoutly implore pro- 
tection ; on thy wisdom we firmly and cheerfully 
rely. Irradiate our minds with all useful truth ; 
instil into our hearts a spirit of general benevo- 
lence ; give understanding to the foolish ; meekness 
to the proud ; temperance to the dissolute ; forti- 
tude to the feeble-hearted ; hope to the desponding ; 
faith to the unbelieving ; diligence to the sloth- 
ful ; patience to those who are in pain ; and thy 
celestial aid to those who are in danger ; comfort 
the afflicted ; relieve the distressed ; supply the 
hungry with salutary food, and the thirsty with a 
plentiful stream. Impute not our doubts to in- 
difference, nor our slowness of belief to hardness 
of heart ; but be indulgent to our imperfect nature, 
and supply our imperfections by thy heavenly fa- 
vour. Whenever we address thee in our retire- 
ment from the vanities of the world, if our prayers 
are foolish, pity us ; if presumptuous, pardon us ; 
if acceptable to thee, grant them, all-powerful 
God, grant them ! And as, with our living voice, 
and with our dying lips, we will express our sub- 
mission to thy decrees, adore thy providence, and 



368 SIR WILLIAM JONES. 

bless thy dispensations ; so, in all future states, 
to which we reverently hope thy goodness will 
raise us, grant that we may continue praising, ad- 
miring, venerating, worshipping thee more and 
more, through worlds without number, and ages 
without end." 



I 



CONCLUSION. 



The Reader, before he closes this volume, will 
naturally pause, and encourage reflections adapted 
to the subject. — He has been presented with the 
testimonies and experience of a number of his 
fellow-creatures, of different periods, countries, 
professions, and situations in life. He has found 
them all uniting in their attestation to the power 
and excellence of true religion, as our surest 
guide and consolation through time, and the only 
means of securing eternal happiness. This solemn 
and concurrent testimony is of great importance. 
Much of it proceeds from some of the most eminent 
persons that have ever appeared in the world, 
whether we consider their station, their abilities, or 
their virtue. It is on a subject of the most interest- 
ing nature : and claims our serious and reverent 
attention, as the sentiments of men, who were too 
much enlightened to be deceived themselves, and 
too deeply affected, as well as too virtuous, to de- 
ceive others. They expressed their genuine feel- 
ings, and their unbiased views of things, at the 
most awful period of hfe. 



370 CONCLUSION; 

Some of the persons mentioned in these me 
moirs seem not to have been deeply impressed 
with religious considerations, till near the termi- 
nation of their days : they had then to lament the 
misapplication of their time, and the delay of the 
great work for which they were brought into ex- 
istence. — Others appear to have made an early, or 
more seasonable choice of virtue and goodnest? 
for their portion ; and to have sp^nt a great part of 
their lives in the fear and love of God, and in do 
ing good to mankind. They enjoyed that peace 
of mind which the world could neither give nor 
take away : and a cheering well-grounded hope ac- 
companied them to the closing scene, that there 
was reserved for them a crown of immortal honour. 
What an evidence on behalf of piety and virtue ! 
What a dissuasive from vice and folly ! And how 
animating to weary travellers, to persevere in the 
paths of goodness, and to keep their eyes fixed on 
that happy country, where they too shall rest for 
ever from all their labours ! 

But we live in a world of danger and tempta- 
tion. Propensities to evil are powerful. The 
riches, honours, and pleasures of life, are con- 
tinually alluring us to an immoderate love and 
pursuit of them. The subtle enemy of all good 
is perpetually on the watch, to avail himself of 
our weakness and exposure, and to ensnare and 
destroy us. Our safety, therefore^ consists in 



CONCLUSION. 371 

being always on our guard and in steadfastly 
resisting every approach of evil. 

But who is sufficient for these things ? In this 
situation, how shall we preserve our innocence, 
maintain the warfare, and finally become victo- 
rious ? — There is not a more evident and im- 
portant truth, than that the power of accomplish- 
ing these great ends of life, is not of ourselves. 
It proceeds from the grace of God; unto whom 
we are directed to apply daily, for preservation 
in temptation, and deliverance from evil. The 
perusal of valuable books, reflection, conversa- 
tion, and other means of moral and intellectual 
improvement, are indeed of great use and im- 
portance. Besides enlarging the mind, and pro- 
moting our temporal comfort and advantage, 
they may spread before us a pleasing view of the 
beauty and excellence of religion ; and may 
occasion some desires for the possession of that 
happiness which it confers : but unless the divine 
AID be sought for and superadded, they will not 
be able to produce that strength of resolution, 
and steady perseverance, which are necessary to 
crown our labours with success. Interest, pas- 
sion, depraved inclination, and the love of the 
world, in constant operation, are too powerful 
to be controlled, by slight and temporary con- 
victions of mind, or feeble and transient wishes 
of the heart. 



372 CONCLUSION. 

May we, therefore, never rest satisfied with 
clear apprehensions of our duty, just sentiments 
of the beauty and excellence of Religion, and 
frequent desires to become its disciples, and to 
partake of its felicity ! May we be earnestly and 
steadfastly concerned to apply, through the Re 
deemer of mankind, to the Giver of all good, for 
the assistance of his Holy Spirit, as the only power 
which can sanctify and render effectual our en- 
deavours to please him, and produce in us the 
highest perfection of our nature ! 

He that formed our spirits, who is constantly 
present with us, and without whose superintend- 
ence not a sparrow falls to the ground, knows all 
om' wants and frailties ; and is not only able, but 
abundantly disposed, to grant all our humble and 
pious requests, and to give us every necessary 
support and comfort. " Ask, and it shall be 
given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and 
it shall be opened unto you." Let us not, there- 
fore, be dismayed by the perils of our situation, 
whatever they may be, or b)^ the feebleness of our 
powers. With humble confidence, let us implore 
the God of love and mercy, to forgive all our of- 
fences ; to conduct us safely through the present 
life ; and to prepare us for a happy immortality 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 



A 

Addison, Joseph - - - - • • • 216 

Altamont 294 

Althens, Margaret ---.-.- 320 

B 

Bacon, Lord Chancellor ------ 9;i 

Baynard, Ann ----.-.- 220 

Beattie, James Hay -----•. 332 

Beaufort, Caia.iial -.-••. 42 

Bede, the Venerable -..--.-35 
Benezet, Anthony --,.-.. 282 
Boerhaave, Herman • - • - - - -212 

Borgia, Caesar ...-- ..44 

Boyle, Robert .-.-.-.-157 
Bretterg, Catharine - - - - - - -101 

Burnet, Bishop -.--,---190 

o 

Carter, Elizabeth ....-•. 343 

Charles V. Emperor of Gsmiany • - - - - 49 

Confucius ••-. 11 

Cyrus 8 

D 

Doddridge, Doctor -- 5JC2 

Donne, Doctor 11)0 

a2 



r74 



INDEX. 



E 
Llizabeth, Princess of the Rhine - - - . - 143 
Eugenius, Pope ---- ... 41 

G 
Gardiner, Colonel • • - . ^ , 

Gilpin, Bernard - - - - * ' ' 

Grey, Lady Jane - - - , c. • * • 

Grotius, Hugo - - • =- - - ^y;; 

H 

Hale, Sir Matthew 128 

Haller Baro^ - 299 

Han way, Jonas - - - - - - - -276 

Harrington, Lord - - - - - - - -118 

Hastingfs, Lady Elizabeth ------ 244 

liatton, Sir Christopher ----.-.90 

Hervey, James ---•••-- 2SG 
Hooker, Richard -.-.-•--83 

Housnian. H. 249 

Howard, John 306 

I 
Ignatius •-••••••-31 

J 
Jane, Queen of Navarro --••••-67 
Jane way, John --••••-• 167 

Jenyns, Soaine --•••••- 262 

Job 1 

Jones, Sir WiUiam 357 

L 

Locke, John --•-•--- 162 

1a)uis IX. King of France ------ 38 

Lyitclton, Lord 273 



INDEX. Ji'i 

M 

Marlborough, Earl of- - - - - - -171 

Mary, Quetn of England ------- 205 

Mason Sir John -------- 47 

Mazarine, Cardinal - - • - - - • -122 
Mompesson, William - • • - - • - 146 
Moulin, Peter Du- -------97 

N 

Newton, Sir Isaac .------- 188 

Newton, John -------- 313 

O 

Orleans, Duke of 259 

Oxenstiern, Chancellor of Sweden . - - - - 107 

P 

Pascal, Blaise • - - - - • - -151 

Paul, the Apostle 2o 

Penn, Admiral - - - - - • - -149 

Phihp III. King of Spain 102 

Polycarp 33 

R 

Raleigh, Sir Walter . - ,- .... 77 
RatclilTe, Jano ---- -.-182 
Renti, Du 141 

Richelieu, Cardinal ------ 11(5 

Rochester, Earl of- - - - - . -195 

Rowe, Elizabeth 222 

Russel, Lady Rachel - - - - - - -174 

S 

Salmasius --------- 120 

Schurman, Anna Maria - - - - - - 126 



376 INDEX. 

Selden, John - - - - - - . - 1 11 

Sidney, Sir Ph^.^p 87 

Smith, Elizabeth -.337 

Smith, Sir Thomas --.-... 52 

Sjjcrates ---•-• i*. 

Solomon ----^-•^- ; 

Stephen, the protomartyr - - • - .. 

W 

Walsingham, Sir Francis .-.«•-- 69 

Watts, Doctor ------ - ^25 

Whiw iocke, Bulstrode - - - • • - I2i 

Wokey Cardmal ------ - 45 

Wouon, Sir Henry .--«•-- 96 

z 



RECOMMENDATIONS OF THIS WORK. 



>n to speak of the diligence, good 

r. Murrd)^; and we congratulate 

us particular work. We announce 

»ns and additions are so consider- 

■t a new Vv-ork." — British Critic^ 



'■• 'rhr ;-.y^.r.. Murray has here selected, and the 

pidicious loll- accompany them, are such as can 

scarcely fail to make the best impressions, and to produce the best 
effects, on all who read them with attention. The present edition 
of this excellent pubhcation, which has been long known and com- 
mended, is enlarged by the addition of twenty-two new character?, 
filling nearly one hundred pages." — Anti-Jacobin Review^ January^ 
1604. 

**We have received the tenth and last edition of this valuable 
work. The improvements made in it, will appear from the Author's 
Advertisement. We can only add to this account of the present 
useful volume, our hope that it will be extensively circulated among 
our countrymen." — Tke American Review and Literary Journal^ 
for Jaty^ August^ and September, 1801. 

"On reviewing this book, in its improved form, we find the facts 
anquestiunable and highly interesting — the style correct and neat — 
and the general tendency of the work such as induces us strongly 
to recommend it, especially to young readers; who love entertain- 
ment nnngled with instruction." — Evangelical Magazine^ Octo- 
ber, ISOl. ^ 

"The rapid snle of this small but valuable collection, has antici- 
pated the commendation we are desirous to bestow. In an exeiiv- 
piification (»f more than se^re?;/// remarkable characters, many striking 
cxampl(;s are exhibited, which, m the quiet hour of rcHection, may 
contribuie to arrest the careless and wandcrinor; to animate the 
Bncere and virtuous; and to convince or discountenance those who 
have been unhappily led to oppose the highest truths." — (Jlcntlp- 
man's Magazine, Aorem6er, 1603. 

32 • 



378 RECOMMENDATIONS OF THIS WORK. 

'* In an age like the present, when Infidelity seems to have thrown 
away her mask, as no longer being ashamed to disclose her daring 
Iront ; — when a laxity of morals prevails even among believers, and 
men stick not to insinuate that an indulgence in cnmes expressly 
forbidden by our holy religion, will find excuse in the eye of that 
Being, who knows he formed us frail creatures ; — at such a season, 
it is of the highest importance, to recur to the piety of those com- 
paratively few bright examples, who will be of singular efficacy to 
excite in us a love of God and goodness. 

" Mr. Murray, with much commend;'^ie zeal, has, in the volume 
before us, provided the reader with an assemblage of virtuous and 
religious characters. The conduct of the greater part of them, at 
the approach of death, affords a lesson which all are concerned to 
learn — that 'the fear of the Lord' alone 'is wisdom,' and to depart 
from evil ihe only 'understanding.' " — Critical Rcvieuo^ Ju7ie, 1803. 

" This judicious biographical selection is already too well known, 
to stand in need of our recommendation : but we nevertheless avail 
ourselves of a corrected and augmented edition, to add our appro- 
bation, to that which it has justly received from the most respecta- 
ble classes of the public." — Eclectic Beview, Aprils 1806. 

" This work, which has been long and justly admired, has, in the 
last edition, received many alterations and improvements ; and, in 
its present enlarged state, forms, in our opinion, one of the best 
books that can be put into the hands of young people."— C^ardtan 
&/" Education^ August^ 1803. 

" That ' examples draw, where precepts fail,' is a truth which has 
been acknowledged in all ages and nations ; and on the strength 
of this principle, Mr. MuiTay has had recourse to experience, in 
evincing the power and importance of religion. He has thus fur- 
nished an interesting collection of testimonies ; and we wonder not, 
that a w^ork so instructive and amusing, as well as impressive, 
should have been generally patronised. It is a book which may be 
read with profit, by persons in all situations : and with the nsing 
generation, it may answer thej^uble purpose, of improving them 
in biography and in virtue."— Mcn^y Review^ Augimty 1801. 




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